Today, I’m 60 years old. That’s right — I’ve got 60% of a century behind me. I can now remember previous times bell bottoms were in fashion. I’ve joked that for gifts, I want world peace and a margarita flavor cupcake with extra frosting. Chances are, I’ll get one of those things. (I hear the shop doesn’t make the margarita ones anymore, but I’ll get something equally tasty!)

Hitting the big birthdays is naturally a time for introspection. I’ve been a little bit blue this year; it’s my first birthday without the one who gave me life in the first place. I still miss her like crazy, and she’d likely remind me, today, that I was a breech baby, came into the world backward, and have remained that way ever since.

And, of course, all of us have had at least one pandemic birthday, at this point, which means I don’t plan on celebrating 60 like it’s a premiere exclusive event. This is my second pandemic birthday, and I truly hope for all of our sakes that there will not be a third. I’ve heard far too many stories of people gathering for happy occasions, only to pass around a deadly disease. I don’t want that. Ever.

Naturally, there are things I wanted to have accomplished by this point in my life; over half a lifetime ago, I thought maybe I’d be comfortably retired, but 60 is young for that, these days. More recently, I had hoped I would be at my weight goal, but I’ve stood in my own way.

I had thought the shape of my life at 60 would be somehow different than it is, back when all the people I knew who were 60 were — well — old.

Now that I’ve arrived, though, I realize I still have lots of life left — and not a day of it to waste. While I might have regrets over making choices that prevented my life from the idyllic state I imagined it would be, I also am thankful for the changes I’ve made along the way. Without them, I might not have even been here today to remember the past 60 years, or I might be so damaged and self-handicapped that 60 really would be old.

Instead, I’ll be off to wineries tomorrow, with dinner on the patio of a historic restaurant, appreciating the day, the wonderful fall weather, my husband, my abilities to be in that moment. And in this one. I’ll drive back in time for an orchestra rehearsal, a board meeting, and then home to cuddle with my favorite dog ever.

It’s the perspective that’s important; 60 is old if you let it be. Or 60 is simply another event in a lifetime of events, with joy and challenges ahead for many years.

With the occasional celebratory cupcake.

And maybe the hope for world peace.