Milestones

VIVIAN CONAN

One day Maeve was musing about how some before-and-after moments have a clear dividing line. Others are less distinct: you know they happened, but you’re not sure when. That got me thinking.

Some are picture clear:

The day I stop sucking my thumb,

Agree to let my father paint my nails

With bad-tasting stuff

So I can hold my head high

When I start kindergarten.

The day I earn my first money,

Dollar bills in an envelope

For after-school work

Operating the buttonhole machine

In my aunt’s pajama factory.

The day I show up for my first library job,

Say “May I help you?”

And actually find what he’s looking for.

“Thank you,” he says,

As if it’s no big deal.

Some are fuzzy,

Knowable only on look-back:

Realizing I’m no longer afraid

To mount the podium

And speak to an audience.

In fact, it gives me a thrill.

Morphing from middle-age to senior,

Selecting shoes for comfort, not style.

Feeling content

With my life

And myself.