My mother just turned 80. It’s a milestone she’s immensely proud of, and rightly so. It takes a lot of resilience, self-care and, yes, luck to be in that club.
She would tell you it’s impossible to believe she is now 80, because she still feels 35. At 52, I concur, although I feel a touch older – more like 40. We’re smashing stereotypes of what women our age should be like.
Except if you want us to be out past 9pm. Eighty is a mighty achievement, but it looks different for everyone. Credit: ISTOCK That said, we did nudge the clock past 10 for the 80th birthday dinner because it was a joyous occasion.
Or occasions, plural, because an entire month of lunches and dinners and afternoon teas followed. It’s possible every cake in Melbourne has been sampled in honour of Mum’s birthday, which is as it should be. Especially as we’re a family who loves sweets.
If there’s one thing my mum has taught me it’s to always check the dessert menu before ordering your main, for fear, through bad planning, that you might not have room for sweets. (Reader, we always have room for sweets.) Such life lessons have shaped me.
Because of my mum, I never arrive empty-handed, I treat heartache with a long walk, and the only reason my house is tidy is because of a mantra she gave me: “Don’t put down, put away.” Theirs was a generation of no-nonsense mothers who were thoroughly fed up with whiny kids who insisted on getting sick or injured. JO STANLEY I think the women of my mum�.