A fifty-year-old woman

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The years pass us by so quickly that we don't notice them, and we only begin to count our ages when we are asked about them. When we answer, we discover that we have reached an age where those around us no longer accept us and see us only as retirees with no right to participate in anything concerning their community except to offer wisdom or advice. They expect us to live in a place of memories, lamenting our past days and languishing in the corners of oblivion, waiting for our children and grandchildren to deign to visit us—that is our role in life. Forgive us, but we have the right to live and to dream of a better, more beautiful, and more wonderful day.