By any measure, 50 is a milestone birthday. Even the most optimistic among us have to admit we’ve probably passed life’s halfway point by now. At 40, you can still tell yourself you’re young, but by 50 there’s no denying that you’re middle-aged.
I need my glasses to read the label on the pills for my sciatica, and when I drop something on the floor, I hesitate before I pick it up while I work out what else I can do while I’m down there. But I’ve found life after 50 is also strangely
