Basking in the Glow of a Golden Celebration

Fading summer flowers,

spent,

and long past their days of glorious blooming,

signaled that the last days of summer had truly arrived.

Are these flowers a metaphor for the weekend?

I wondered as I hurried out of the house and headed off for a weekend

 with my high school girlfriends.

Long in the planning, the weekend celebration of our

70th birthdays

had finally arrived.

I had dubbed this celebration:
Our Senior Trip.

At age seventy, some may think my girlfriends and I had reached an age beyond the blooming days of youth where there is not much to celebrate.

In our hearts we are still young girls,
but,

we have somehow reached the entry year to our eighth decade.

We came together 

to bask 

in the glory of reaching a milestone that none of knew could be so rewarding.

bask/

verb

1. lie exposed to warmth and light, typically from the sun, for relaxation and pleasure

   revel in and make the most of (something pleasing).*

The Trip to the Celebration

A few of us decided to make the trip from the Colorado Front Range of the Rockies
to the Western Slope of Colorado
via the train.

The train left Denver at 8:05 a.m. for a five hour and forty-eight minute trip
through the Colorado Mountains.

I had not taken this particular train route since my sophomore year in college.

That was fifty years ago.

The entire trip promised to be a nostalgic one for me.

Jim got up early and drove me to Denver where I met up with the other six girls traveling by train.  

We were all very excited.

This railroader's daughter loves a train ride.

As the train wove its way up and over the mountains, a metaphor to describe the weekend began to take shape in my mind:

All is golden.

My History with the Group

I had the good fortune to join the Girls of '63 when I first attended Pueblo East High School during my freshman year in high school.  Pueblo East was a brand new high school in 1959 when my father, an agent for the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad, was transferred from Colorado Springs to Pueblo. I was a very frightened fifteen year old, naive and quite young looking for my age, when I was uprooted from my junior high and transplanted to the high school setting in November of '59.  I had lived in the same house all of my life before that move.  I had known my classmates since kindergarten.

When I walked through those doors of East High, I had no idea that I would make some the most important friendships of my life in the three years I proudly wore gold and white and cheered for the Eagles.  Immediately, the girls from my class began to make me feel welcome by inviting me to school events, or seeking me out to sit with the girls at lunch.  Soon I was attending sleepovers where we laughed all night and told each other stories about our lives.

One of the girls from this group introduced me to my husband.  Her sixteenth birthday(click to read this story.) was our first date.  Now, all these years later, she would be my roommate for our 70th birthday celebration.  

Twenty-two of us gathered to celebrate our 70th birthdays together in the beautiful Glenwood Springs, Colorado.  Yes, much has changed over the years, but in so many ways, nothing has changed.  Those friendships deeply rooted in our youth have flourished over the years as some have gathered quarterly for over twenty-five years.  We missed those who could not attend dearly and thought of them often.

It was my good fortune to join the lunch group about six years ago when I finally connected with some of the stalwarts of the group and learned of the next gathering.  I learned the truth of this quote below the first time I attended one of the lunches.  

This quote also came to mind so often during the weekend:
Your heart and my heart are very old friends.

~ Hafiz

The Celebration

We came together to celebrate attaining the age of seventy.  

We came together to celebrate friendship, 

perseverance,

 roots, 

heritage, 

our histories, 

our loyalty to each other, 

and each individual person.  

We came together to remember those we have lost.

 We shared stories of our lives while we have been living life.

We laughed.

We cried.

We came together to affirm our love for each other.  

We came together to express our support for each other as we move towards the future.

We are our own unique group of Golden Girls.

Here are some photos from our glorious birthday party:

We arrived at the beautiful old railroad station in Glenwood Springs, Colorado.  Our first task was to determine just how we would cross the river to our lodge on the other side.

We navigated the long pedestrian bridge and made it to our destination.

No taxi for us!

We all stayed at the Glenwood Hot Springs Lodge. We had free access to the hot springs pool and a free fabulous breakfast at the hot springs every morning.  Our rooms were wonderful.  We even were able to have a large ballroom for our birthday dinner on Saturday night.  Our fabulous planner, a Glenwood Springs resident with great connections, JG (In the flowered top) made all arrangements for us.  She did an outstanding job.  She is a party planner extraordinaire.  I also think she is  the original Energizer Bunny.  Where does this girl get her energy?

Our Party Planner JG

The first night, we donned our Girls of '63 shirts for group photos that were taken by a professional photographer.  The poor woman charged with taking our photos must have felt like she was herding cats.  She had excellent "classroom management skills."  Many photos were taken.We had groups that included all those whom had attended kindergarten through graduation together.  I think about nine or ten of the girls were in this group.  That alone is an amazing thing.  About five or six of us joined the Class of '63 during high school.  I alone, did not graduate with the group because my father was transferred to Leadville, Colorado just before my senior year.  

After photos, we walked through town to go to a vaudeville show which was excellent and exceeded all expectations for entertainment for the evening.  As we walked through town we garnered quite a few reactions.  "Hey, were you all born in '63?"  I said I'd take someone believing we all were 63.  A passenger in a passing car built our egos with a whistle.  (Hey, it's been a long time since we've had a guy whistle at us.)

Saturday night we had our big birthday dinner.  So many did so much work to get everything ready, but JG outdid herself.  A florist by trade, she made our table centerpieces and dressed the tables in our school colors of gold and white.  Yearbooks and memory books were on each table.  We had individual table place markers with a picture from our high school yearbook.  SP made each of us a rose bookmark.  JG made the fabulous birthday cake.  

A history of our group was read by PS.  As is our tradition, we raised our margaritas as a toast to those we have lost too soon.  We wept as a list of all of the fallen Eagles from our class was read.  Too many are gone too soon.  A few of the girls went to great effort to set up a tree with photos of all of our fallen Eagles.

The weekend was all about friendship.

I have the best girlfriends.

I am so blessed.

My Girlfriends Pure Gold

Some of my readers have remarked that they are amazed that this group has met on a consistent basis.  Truly, it is a remarkable feat in this day and age to have a group stay so connected for all these years. We owe PS for the gift of this group.  She is our organizer.  She keeps us together by setting the dates for our meetings in advance.  Those who can come to events, do so.  Those who can't come try to attend the next one.

The hostess for each gathering usually has a co-hostess who serves as a backup hostess just in case of emergency.  The hostess provides the main dish.  PS makes sure we have desserts, salads, and sides assigned to all attending. She even maintains a group photo album that includes a group photo from every gathering since the very first one.  PS had the vision of a 70th birthday party, and we actually made it a reality!  Thank you, PS!

PS reading the history of our group

The setting for the celebration could not have been better.  We had access to the healing waters of the Glenwood Springs Hot Springs for three glorious days.  The warm natural springs provided just the right place for bonding again with each other.  One day, I'm sure we spent at least three hours in the afternoon just standing in a large circle in the water, or sitting on sides with our feet soaking in the warm water, talking.  Yes, there was a lot of talking, talking, talking, and much laughter.  We cried a bit.  We marveled at the stories of our lives.  We were astounded that we actually had these hours together for such deep, reflective, sharing.  

The setting DC & KM friends for 65 years

I felt younger and healthier after a weekend of soaking in the healing waters for hours on end.  Was this place the fountain of youth?  I remember looking up at the beautiful Colorado blue sky, feeling the warmth of the sun on my shoulders, and gazing into the beautiful lined faces and sparkling eyes of my lifelong friends and thinking that life just doesn't get much better than this.

Too soon, it was time to go home. 

Throughout the weekend, we shared hugs, 

held hands, 

promised to be there to end.

DDI commented that next great challenge as a group would be loss of hearing.

Yes, we had a hard time hearing at times.

That is the reality of celebrating 70!

We had soaked up rays of sun and healing waters.

We relaxed and experienced great pleasure.

We reveled in, and

 made the most of

celebrating our 70th birthdays.

We basked in the warmth of our golden friendships.

* Dictionary.com

Celebrating Colorado

Colorado turned 139 years old this past Saturday.

We decided to celebrate both the birthday and the State of Colorado by visiting one of her treasures:

Red Rock Canyon Open Space.

I'd never been to Red Rock Canyon Open Space before.

In fact, as a third generation Coloradan, born and raised in the City of Colorado Springs, I am ashamed to say I'd never even heard of Red Rock Canyon Open Space until a few years ago.

I grew up spending many happy days throughout my childhood exploring Garden of the Gods.

I couldn't even tell you how many times in my lifetime I have driven past the 787 acres that comprise this spectacular treasure tucked unnoticed in the canyon along side of Highway 24.

How did I miss it?

How did I not know it was there?

The short answer is that until the early 2000's it was owned for over eighty years by a private family.
It was not on public lands.
It was private and inaccessible.

The story of how the City of Colorado Springs acquired this area will not be recounted here in this post, but I have provided a link for those of you whom might be interested in reading about about it.

Link:  Red Rock Canyon Open Space.

I wish my uncles were alive.

No doubt in their days of exploration of the Colorado Springs area during the 1920's and 1930's, I have every reason to speculate that they visited this place while looking for arrowheads and places to climb and explore.
They knew about such secret places.
They had explored them.
I doubt that rumors of a man with a gun protecting the place would have kept them out.
I just wish I could ask them about it.

This area, known as the "secret Garden of the Gods," is truly, as the article I linked for you says, 

a geological wonder.

If you have been to the Garden of the Gods, you have seen similar outcroppings of red sandstone rock as you will see in this open space.

In fact, both areas are one whole geographic ecosystem.

Only in modern times have they been viewed as separate systems.

I am not a geologist, though I wish I had studied more of this field, but the rock formations in my hometown have always fascinated me.  

Having never been to Red Rock Canyon Open Space,
Jim and I did not know what to expect when we set out for our adventure.

We tried to explore the area last summer when son Jonathan and grandson Atticus were here.

We only got a photo to commemorate the start of the hike when the rains came.

This year, we again took a few photos to commemorate the day and
hoped rain would not end our hike.

(Typical blogger activity: take photos for the blog at the start of any adventure.)

The smile is a real one.

Feeling well and energetic,
I was so excited to finally get out and do a hike with my man and my dog.

There is no better way to celebrate Colorado Day than by taking in her beauty 

with the ones you love.

Our first task was to choose a trail to explore.

We started down the path.

The day was warm, but the clouds were not threatening a storm.  

They provided a welcomed cloud cover from the sun.

I love that blue Colorado sky.

I love those red rocks.

Yes, Colorado is colorful.

Colorado means:  colored red.

Now you know how Colorado got her name.

Enjoy photos from our walk.

I believe this peaceful looking lake is not without its controversy.

It was built by the previous owners of the area to catch and store rain water.

That is against the law in the State of Colorado.

Colorado Water Laws are very strict.

Retaining pools are illegal.

Pools like these have been dry during periods of drought.

Spring rains caused them to flood and damage the surrounding trails.

On this day, the pool was beautiful and serene.

You can read about the damage and the water controversy here if you are interested.

Look, the sky is changing.

That is a part of celebrating Colorado.

Her weather is quite unpredictable.

I honestly don't know what this monument is commemorating.

I failed to record it in my notes.

I was more interested in getting a photo of the Peak (Pikes Peak).

It is the distant mountain in the center of the photo.

This past spring many of the hiking trails in Red Rock Canyon Open Space were washed out by spring rains.

In fact, the area had just recently reopened after the trails were repaired.  

This waterlogged field, covered in natural grasses,  was quite marshy and wet.

Look closer.

Can you see the dragonfly?

(It's barely visible in the center of the photo.)

Dragonflies, symbols of change, 

a change in perspective and self-realization,

have been showing themselves to me on several long walks Jim and I have taken this summer.

They have become an important symbol of what I have been experiencing this year.

This self realization has at its source the type of change that comes from

mental

and 

emotional 

maturity,

and from the 

understanding 

of the deeper meaning of life.  

Dragonflies have become my symbol of the entry into my seventies.

I am seventy.

I am learning to embrace the changes in my life and in my perspective of life.

I am reminded how important this time of life is when I encounter unexpected sightings of the dragonfly.

They are so magical.

Their iridescence

 reminds me that it is good to end

one's self-centered illusions.

It is time to have

a clear vision of the realities of life.*

Live in the moment.

Live life to fullest in that moment.

   Few things are more healing to the mind and the soul than walking through areas where one can observe and reflect upon nature.

I recognize and acknowledge the awesome power that created this geological specimen.

Since my earliest days I have marveled at the trees that seem to grow out of rocks.
It is a reminder that while the soil may seem unfriendly,
and
it may appear as if nothing will grow in such circumstances,
there are examples all through nature that show us
that environment is not the only predictor of growth or of survival.
Life springs forth under the worst of circumstances.
I love the lessons of nature.

Colorado,
you give us much to celebrate.
I love this place, the place of my birth.
I'm so grateful to have this beauty just a few short miles from my home.

The hike ends with a reflection.

We have found a new place to explore and enjoy.
We will be back.

Jim and Boston posed for one final photo,

while I counted these two among the blessings of my day.

* Reflection on the dragonfly were recorded in my journal earlier this summer.  I don't know where I found these definitions to the meaning of the dragonfly.  No doubt they were found on some internet search.  I did not cite the reference before I wrote these line in my journal.

On Seventy ~ Reflections on Becoming a Septuagenarian

Last year about this time, a dear friend and I met to write.  We spoke of our upcoming seventieth birthdays.  We thought we should take the year to reflect on the milestone event that would soon be upon us.  What lessons would we learn as we approached the eighth decade of our lives?  What, if anything, could we learn about life before we became septuagenarians?

Having read many of May Sarton's journals over the years, I went in search of her book At Seventy: A Journal.  I knew I had read it before, but found I had gotten rid of it when we moved.  So, off to the library I went to find it for a re-reading.  Interestingly, I found little insight in this particular journal.  She did determine that during her seventieth year, she would journal for one entire year.  I thought I might try to do better than that.  I toyed with the idea of writing fifteen minutes a day for one year.  

We are now twenty-one days since my seventieth birthday.  Needless to say, I have not written everyday.  I have however had some reflections on reaching this milestone in life.

In At Seventy: A Journal,Sarton wrote, 

How is seventy different from sixty-five?  I don't see much difference, except that time accelerates.  The days go past with frightening rapidity, and so do the years.  It is plain that I am not ready for old age!  But then time does not stand still for old age I fear.  On the contrary, from all reports, it simply flies away, and that is what I am beginning to notice.  

Did her words ring true?

Is seventy different than sixty-five?

I thought I might take a look back.

What was my sixtieth birthday like?

Wow, talk about time accelerating.

My grandchildren were not teenagers when I was sixty.

Time simply flies away...

Mason was six and Hannah and Atticus were two.

I could hold the two younger ones in my arms.  Now they are all taller than I am.

I ventured up on the trampoline the day I turned sixty, just to see if I could still jump.

I could.

It is plain that I am not ready for old age! 

60th birthday

I was excited to turn sixty-five.

Having officially retired at age sixty-one, I was still working until sixty-five for insurance benefits.

At sixty-five, my medicare coverage kicked in and I was thrilled.

I felt good.

I was healthy.

True retirement was something I was looking forward to with great anticipation.

I had much I wanted to accomplish.

On the day of my sixty-fifth birthday, my high school girl friends gathered at my home.

It was a planned gathering that happened to occur on my birthday.

Here are some photos from that day.

The group photo, my photo at age sixty-five, and a few of the girls.

One cannot reflect upon reaching the eighth decade of life without remembering that dear ones have been lost along the way.

On that day of my sixty-fifth birthday, we could not know that

before the year was out, my girlfriends and I would lose Judy, our dearly loved classmate.

She had been fighting cancer, but she was well and looked so good that day.

In the photos above, she is sitting in the place of honor, the gold chair. 

Sadly, she did not reach the milestone the rest of reach this year of becoming

septuagenarians.

I also lost my dear daughter during my sixty-fith year.

She died three months after my birthday.

For half a decade, I have learned the meaning of bereavement.

At seventy, I am much different than I was at sixty-five. 

Mark Twain shared his wisdom at seventy:

I have achieved my seventy years in the usual way, by sticking strictly to a scheme of life which would kill anybody else....I will offer here, as a sound maxim, this: That we can't reach old age by another man's road.
Mark Twain

My life was pretty simple in many ways until I hit sixty-five.

It was filled with some sorrow and disappointments, but mostly, I was quite pleased with the path my life had taken.

My children were grown and it seemed they had launched successfully.

I had just retired from a profession for which I still held great passion.

I thought I would continue to teach some, write some, travel some, and garden a lot.

Grief took away many of those plans.

In the past five years, I think I have come to think more deeply about what is most important in my life.

Also, I refuse to believe that just because I am seventy, I am old.

I prefer the following quote over Mark Twain's.

The first forty years of our life give the text, the next thirty furnish the commentary upon it, which enables us rightly to understand the true meaning and connection of the text with its moral and its beauties. 
Schopenhauer

The commentary on my first forty years won't be recorded here. 

(Let out a sigh of relief for that!)

At forty, would I ever believe I would be where I am today?

No, never in my wildest dreams would I have known what was in my future.

That is a good thing.

Along with the loss that I have suffered, I've know great joy.

I have been richly blessed.

As I reach seventy, I've learned I have treasures I always longed for when I was younger.

Today, I will touch on several treasures that only get better with age.

The Treasure of Friendship

There is great beauty in sharing the lives of those I knew before I knew much about life.

I made wonderful friends when I was a young, very naive teenager.

Now, the great gift of life is that I get to enter the eighth decade of my life with these dear women.

They gathered at my home last weekend.

Every time we get together, we hug on each other like long lost friends.

We laugh.

We share our stories.

We poke fun.

We encourage.

We know what we have is precious and rare.

We celebrate each other and the group.

This time we had several with us whom either have never joined us before, or live far away.

We have 50 years to catch up on with these few.

Kathy and Elaine, seen over the ham I cooked,

came early to sweep my doorway, 

set up tables,

keep me calm and focused,

and show me they are there to remember what I forgot.

We held a planning meeting so we could plan our big

Seventieth Birthday Party

that will be held in September.

We will go to Glenwood Springs, Colorado for three days of celebration.

I call our trip that we are planning 

Our Senior Trip.

The ladies heard of room rates, things to do, and dinner plans as we held our

Senior Meeting

in my living room.

Did I hear someone is bringing a case of white wine?

Someone else is bringing a case of red wine?

Goodness.

Watch out.

The true golden girls are getting ready to celebrate.

The Treasure of a Loving Husband

When my milestone birthday was drawing near, I knew I wanted to celebrate it in a special way.

I didn't want a party.

Who wants to clean the house?

My birthday falls on February 28, so it is not a good time for the children to come from out of state.

They have jobs and kids that keep them busy in February.

The weather is unpredictable.

Instead of a party, we decided we would go to Florida to celebrate my birthday.

I've known my husband as long as I've known the girlfriends whom I just wrote about.

Just like the laughter and the memories that I share with them, I share such wonderful memories of days gone by with my husband.

He has been that one that has always been there for me.

Even when I was a young woman, I knew the young man I first dated fifty-four years ago this week would make me laugh.

I knew he would always show me respect.

I knew he was one I could easily honor and respect.

I knew he would be a gentle, kind, understanding companion.

I knew he would give me a good life.

I just didn't marry this dear man until I was forty-seven years old.

Sometimes, youth makes one stupid.

Sometimes we get wiser with age.

At least, this man, the one I love, and I got together in the end.

Never would I have believed back in those days that at 70 Jim would be at my side.

Never in my wildest dreams did I believe that.

Thankfully, he is here with me.

At sixty-five, when my life turned upside down, he was there.

At seventy, we acted like a couple of kids at Disney's Magic Kingdom.

We walked around wide eyed and forgot that our bodies were aging.

We laughed ourselves silly on rides that we maybe shouldn't have ridden.

Thankfully, neither of us had a heart attack.

Jim took a selfie of us just before we went for one of those crazy rides.

On Valentine's Day, two weeks before I turned seventy, my love and I walked on Daytona Beach. 

Now here's something to celebrate:

We both are septuagenarians,

but we still love to have those romantic moments on the beach.

We met as teenagers, and we get to enter the last years of our lives together.

Life doesn't get any better than this.

A Valentine's Day Kiss 2015

I'm learning this at seventy:

The older the fiddle, the sweeter the tune.
Irish Saying