This year, I turned 55. People call it a milestone. Some call it the golden anniversary of life. Others quietly label it “early senior.” But I don’t feel decline. I feel awareness. At 55, you stop assuming you have endless time. You start realizing time is precious. And precious things deserve intention. Six months ago, I had one of those nights where grief sat heavier than usual. Widowhood has a way of revisiting you when you least expect it. I poured a glass of wine. Then a