March 3rd. It is your birthday today. And a special one, too. Sixty. That is in close vicinity to becoming elderly. You know, the folks I used to call the beige people.

But hey, these days, sixty is known as the new forty. 

Remember, when we first met? Forty seemed quite old to us, back then. And neither one of us wasted much thought on how it would feel, to join this age group: the elderly.

We were too busy with our lives. Planning families, homes, careers.

In recent years, we started to discuss, how life would be, after one retires. As this date drew closer for you. I just could not fathom you not working. I always thought, soon after your teaching career ended, you’d pick up some translation work or find teaching projects or courses to host, else at least some people needing help with their English. Maybe you might finally start to write short stories or a novel of your own. Something along these lines.

Your own ideas sounded a little more homey. You already set up you grandmother corner upstairs. Where your fabulous collection of children books sits neatly ordered. Along with some games and toys. Awaiting your own grandchildren, I guess. I was not yet ready to accept this idea. Weren’t your girls just out of kindergarten?

But of course, they are young women, already. Time flies.

For you, it ended. You are not turning sixty today. I miss you so much. But hey, that way, you’ll stay forever young.