Is it ever too late?

Autumn arrived here on Sunday with a bang — the bang of windows slamming shut and lawn chairs hurled against the side of the garage. James Lileks tweeted: “Huge angry wind. Why, we call it “trouble wind” ’round these parts. Fall got tired of waiting and decided to shove summer out of the way.”

Weather changes are always aburpt here in Minnesota, but this year we didn’t even get a chance to mourn the passage of summer. The umbrella and chair cushions on the deck haven’t been put away, and my closet is still full of tank tops and flipflops. Even the squirrels seem to have been caught off guard, having left at least half of the walnuts on the tree in our front yard.

I feel the same about my passage from middle age to senior citizen status. It happened too quickly, and I wasn’t prepared. My oldest daughter turned 40 this spring, and in a few months, my oldest grandchild will no longer be a teenager. When an online friend announced the birth of her second great-grandchild, I realized we’re about the same age. How did all this happen? Haven’t I been paying attention?

I’ve always had the mindset, “it’s never too late,” but I’m wondering if enough grains of sand still remain in my hourglass. My mental bucket list has so few checkmarks, and I still have so many unfulfilled dreams.

Like my friend Sharon, autumn for me has always been a time of new beginnings. Perhaps it’s the memories of the start of the school year with the smell of freshly-sharpened pencils, the sight of thick notebooks with unblemished pages, and the sound of chattering children waiting on the corner for the middle-school bus.

Is it too late for me to enjoy new beginnings?