Turning 30, 40, 50, 52, and 59

When I turned 30.
On my birthday I remember thinking that I have to start saving for my old age. 
My cousin came to my birthday party all the way from Germany  (Today she is an experienced massage therapist based in Montreal, Canada.)
My marriage was already crumbling.
My son was nearly 2 years old and so sweet, still without any signs of emotional or mental health problems.

When I turned 40. 
I  was already divorced for a couple of years, living alone with my son.
Having unhealthy relationships with younger men.
I remember that I rented a car (I never owned a car until only quite recently) and me and my son made a trip to a bird watching center in the desert in southern Israel. Already then at the age of 12 he was a bird expert, with an amazing knowledge especially of birds of prey. He knew many of their names in three languages – Hebrew, German, and English.
I also remember feeling down about being forty. I felt it was the beginning of the end of my existence as an attractive woman. Men would no longer look at me with desire in their eyes.

When I turned 50.
It was the month I caused the involuntary psychiatric hospitalization of my son. With many tough months and years to follow. Recalling the events still brings a lump to my throat. 

When I turned 52.
I stopped wearing a bikini.

Now I am 59.
I have always loved the desert, already as a young girl. And I still do.
I have never been as mentally and emotionally healthy and stable as now.
I am enjoying my simple life, with a very fulfilling job, my two cats and my plants, my partner living in the same building, and always a good book awaiting me on my nightstand. I have resumed studying to finish my BA in Social Sciences. My son is fine. I still have a debt, but I’m paying it off. My mom in Germany is getting old and that worries me. Life.