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I spend most of my waking hours sharing a room with two twenty-something men. One is single, the other newly married. They are young enough, and I am old enough, that they could be my sons. I don’t think of them that way, but I find that I want to nurture them…no, that’s not exactly right…I want to disabuse...

The gifts of maturity are many. Having lived a generous number of years means I can look back and say “I lived through that, I can live through this.” I’ve learned to be easier on myself, though I’m sometimes ashamed of how hard I am on others. The alternatives to aging aren’t attractive anyhow, and...