I have now lived longer than my paternal grandmother.

It's getting surreal. I just now realized that I've now lived to be older than my paternal grandmother, who I never met. She died two years before I was born. She died when she was 42 and I'm now 43. All of last year, I would think to myself, "This would've been Frances' last year on earth." But now I can't think that anymore. I'm older now than Frances ever survived to be. Seems unusual. Because there's that whole PARADIGM where I lie directly in-between, one generation removed, from my daughter and my grandmother. I'm not a mathematician, but I can see how this works. It's a vortex almost, where I am both looking behind to myself as a child, and ahead to my octogenarian self. It's profound.

So anyway, it used to seem kinda like 42 was old enough. To know that Frances died when she was 42 was to find yourself thinking that (after all) 42 isn't really THAT young. She was already OLD -- Pam was young, therefore Frances was not. That was kinda how I looked at it until just this past several months. When I actually turned 42, it was kinda like reaching the "Jesus age." I had made it. I should probably figure out the meaning of MY life or something like it. Didn't so much work that way. I didn't figure out a damn thing. I'm 43 now and I do not know one single secret. I still do not know My Life's Purpose. But the pressure's a little bit off too, you know. Well, I didn't figure out when I thought I would, so maybe it's going to take a LOT longer ... no need to rush. 42 is really very, very young. There are soooo many more things for me to do. So even though I walk around feeling ancient and INVISIBLE because I don't LOOK the way I USED to, I should realize that the benefit of becoming invisible is that I can now proceed to live the rest of my life in relative comfort and satisfaction and keep thinking ... thinking ... thinking ...

I can't remember when I last referred to it, and I know it bears the strong possibility of sounding trite, but I really am going through a sea change. I've thought about starting yet ANOTHER blog to categorize that little seed of my other life. In the same way that we use baby books to record milestones, I feel the need to commemorate some of these new and fabulous realizations. And then there's that guilt that I'm on the computer too much ...