On Turning 55...

OVER THE YEARS.....

Age 6: The pre-schooler and her first official portrait.

(Bukit Besi, Terengganu 1960)

Age 16: The schoolgirl in her Girl Guide ensemble.

(Dungun, Terengganu 1970)

Age 20: The newspaper reporter on her wedding day.

(Kuala Lumpur, 1974)

Age 38: The PR consultant-cum-single mom with 4 kids in tow.

(Bangkok, Thailand 1992 - serving Thai Tourism Board)

Age 47: Another shot at matrimony, after 14 years...

(Ipoh, Perak 2001)

Age 54: blissfully happy: Kama & Pak Abu

(Medina, Saudi Arabia - Hajj of 2008).

(This entry is unashamedly self-indulgent, so please forgive me. Give it a miss if it doesn't quite agree with you; I am just so happy to be where I am today that I could burst from the sheer joy of it).

A wargamas - freshly minted, legally certified and absolutely thrilled - was born today. Signed, sealed, delivered; that's me, rushing headlong into 55. How wonderful, to be able to proudly claim senior citizenship!

I had waited for this day ever since I turned 40. Frankly, it has very little to do with the promised bounty, enticing as that may be. It's just that the 40s somehow never really fit into my scheme of things. I couldn't relate to the old standby "life begins at 40" because for me it didn't.

If I were to assign some recognition to it, I'd call my 40s "the age of wilderness and confusion." You see, when you hit 40, you are neither here nor there. While you are definitely not young (being young at heart doesn't count), you are not old either.

The age of youth ends with 39. But old age doesn't really hit you in the face until 50 and beyond, so where does that leave the 40s? Granted, it may be just numbers to some but those numbers troubled me enough to give my 40s a wide mental berth.

Time stood still from the time I bid 39 goodbye until I leapfrogged into 50. The missing decade was spent in "age hibernation', emerging only on the treshhold of 50 to take my rightful place amongst the half-centurians.

Alas, what I had conveniently seek to forget, my bones never ceased to remind. The creaks amplified with every move. Not that I minded much really, because being 50 was a prelude to better things to come - turning 55 and joining the illustrious "Senior Citizens Brigade".

So here I am, turning 55 today - still alive and kicking - creaking bones, protruding guts, wobbly knees, greying hair, the occasional memory lapses, impaired vision and 'audio trouble' notwithstanding. All the same, Thank You God, for all Your blessings....