Apparently, “Someday” Is Not a Plan

At 65, mortality has started popping up in my thoughts more often than it used to. Am I morbid? Nope. Just realistic.

It is closer now. That’s a fact. And even though my husband says I have at least a good 30 years to go, who really knows? Just because my mom lived to almost 99 doesn’t mean I will.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot. So I figured if I write it down, maybe it will stop. (Wishful thinking, I know.)

As my mom used to say, this aging thing isn’t for the faint of heart. But it’s real. And by God, I’m going to do everything in my power to stay healthy as long as I can.

I’ve lost a ton of weight. I’m strength training. Eating protein and veggies. Sleeping well.

But that’s not the thing that’s been bothering me lately.

What’s bothering me is that I haven’t finished my book.

Sure, I’ve written it four times. Then put it away in a closet (true story) so I wouldn’t have to think about how not done it is.

Which feels especially ridiculous when I realize my business is built around helping other women my age tell their stories before it’s too late. I don’t say that part out loud when we work together. But they know.

Meanwhile, my unfinished book is calling to me from the closet… telling me it’s ready to meet the world… and I’ve been ignoring it.

But every time I see that someone close to my age has died—and it’s been a lot lately—I realize the call is coming from inside the house. And I need to answer it.

Not someday. Not when things “slow down.” But now, while I can still remember names, dates, details, and how things felt.

So many stories disappear because people assume they’re not important enough to tell. Or they think they’ll get around to it later.

By “people,” I mean me.

But later is optimistic. Later isn’t promised. Later may never come.

Now is all we really have. So it’s time to get it done.

This isn’t about being profound or saving the world with deathless prose. It’s about leaving a record of what happened, so someone else can read it someday and feel a little less alone when they’re going through something hard.

Mortality has a way of clarifying things.

And one thing feels very clear to me right now: This is the time to tell our stories. Not just mine—yours too.

Let’s do it.