Nana Mama's Joy

Do you have a store room in your house? A basement or perhaps a room hidden away from the eyes of visitors that houses the trash and treasures of your life? For twenty years, I have lived in an old two story home with ample area to keep “stuff,” and mercy, have I ever kept everything! In anticipation of a possible move, I have spent the past several weeks sifting through the closets, drawers, and storage areas of our residence. The results have been incredible. It’s not as if I didn’t know what was there… but just that I had forgotten much of it, and the sheer volume was overwhelming! We have a wonderful attic. It’s like one you would see on the cover of a Nancy Drew mystery… bare rafters, wooden plank floor, windows looking down to the ground far below. A single light bulb illuminates the large area, which until recently, was filled to overflowing with two decades of family collectibles. Included in that description are the castoffs from our parents’ store rooms and the entire lifetim...

This column was written ten years ago and what a difference a decade can make! Now that I'm in my 55 th year (is that possible?) I still consider myself "middle aged" - although at last I'm finally seeing some benefits to aging, (like discounted hotel rooms for "mature (50+) travelers"). I think I still have a few years to go before I can really reap the senior discounts, but considering the cost (in years) I'll be patient. Last month, in this very column, I made the declaration, “I am middle-aged.” Not that I became middle-aged last month... or even that I just realized it at that time... but that I first became willing to admit my status. Denial can offer great comfort, especially when referring to a woman’s age. Ever since I was old enough to do simple arithmetic, I knew I would turn 46 years old three days into the new century. And I had always considered the 45 th year to mark the beginning of mid life. Some may think that age 40 is a better med...