So today I proofread the newspaper page that features my farewell column. It doesn’t run for two days, so I have that long to adjust.
I wonder if I will. Adjust, I mean.
There’s so much unknown in front of me. And such warm memories behind. As I read over the blurbs describing some of the women I highlighted, I was struck with the collected wisdom, courage, compassion and friendship they’d shown me. And they’re the tip of the iceberg. For every woman I featured, 10 others stand behind, just as staunch, just as memorable. I think of the women’s clubs and networks that invited me to speak and how much fun it was to meet an entire roomful of warm, smart, accepting women. How easily we could all connect, how eager we are to meet one another at this time of life, when the intertwined nature of our friendships and support systems is becoming both stronger and more apparent.
On the drive home, I realized that the women I’ve met, who generously shared their stories and wisdom, have shaped me into a woman who’s finally strong enough and bold enough to step out into a new role, try something different, take a plunge. Yes, I’m leaving my readers in one sense, forfeiting my newspaper space each week that was once devoted to our conversations. But I’m taking them with me.
I learned the lessons I was meant to learn. Can’t ask for more than that.
Turn the page.
A Certain Age 