"Somewhere In Between: Why I'm Jealous Of Both My Mother And My Daughter."

I hope that when I reach her age, I, too, can look upon the lives of my kids with that sense of accomplishment, of a job well done.  I worry about whom my kids will meet, marry and love; about what kind of careers will make them happy, about where they will live, whom they will become. I dream about one day having happy, healthy, and, as my mom would say, colorful grandchildren.  I long for the type of relationships with them that my mom has so successfully developed with her own.

There are still so many unknowns for them, so many things they have yet to experience and so much that I can't control or do for them.  I can hope and pray that they live happy lives, but to be at an age and a time in my life where I can know it all turns out ok is a state of mind worthy of envy.

I'm not ready to be in my seventies yet.  To be quite honest, I really liked my forties and the fifties have started out pretty damn well so far.  I guess the beauty of the "somewhere in between" is that I can look, albeit through a certain green- hued lens, back with joy and ahead with anticipation.

I do need to be careful to remember to enjoy the now.  Because as we all know, we never know how good it is while we are in it, and we can never get today back.

So here's to being 22, 51 and 71.  All good.  All enviable.

Are any of you experiencing the "in between?"

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