More Roots

Well, I never made it to see Lucy, my long lost relative from Ethopia. But in the last year I have been tracing my closer family roots. Ancestry.com is an amazing thing. I found two distant cousins who are passionate about geneology too and we have been furiously exchanging information about the Newton family and all the descendents.

Again as I approach my 60th birthday, I'm trying to make dramatic changes in my life. Not to say my life is bad. It certainly isn't, but I feel as though going from 59 to 60 is a passage into, at least mentally, the phase of life called "crone," a phase of wisdom, maturity and spirtuality. In pagan beliefs, I should have gone through that phase at 50, and I guess in many respects I did. But I've also always been a late bloomer. Or maybe, because people live longer now, we can hold off moving into "cronehood" until 60.

With my transition to 60, I've decided to go back to the place of my farthest recorded roots. I'm going to Pennsylvania in October. I hope to plug the gaps in my family history. It will be an interesting journey. I'm going alone. It seems that as we age, it is our destiny to be alone. We come into the world alone and become part of something bigger, but at the end, we go out alone.

But until that day comes for me, well, I say, there's no reason you can't be wise, mature, spiritual and, also, flying down the highway of life at 90 miles an hour with the top down. I bet B B Ellerbeck was at least 60 when he designed the first retractable hardtop car in 1931.

By the way, did I mention we bought a convertible a month ago?

60 is the new 50, and I'm going to live the rest of my life like my pants are on fire. Carolyn C. Martin