Looking Back to See Ahead

Great Grandpa Feeding the Chickens

At 62, My Parents Built a Life of Welcome—What Am I Building?

I turned 62 this past November. It’s a strange and reflective milestone—one that invites a look back, not just at my own life, but at my parents’ journey when they were my age. What were they doing at 62? What did their lives look like compared to mine?

My mother, an Irish Catholic woman from a small town, was raised in a home steeped in faith, hospitality, and hard work. Her father was a blacksmith, and she spent time as an X-ray technician before shifting her focus to family and business. My father, the grandson of German potato farmers, learned precision and craftsmanship from his carpenter father. They met in high school, married in a small country church, and set out to build a life together.

After my father served as a sergeant in the Korean Conflict, he and my mother ran a laundry business before he transitioned to the phone company. By the time they reached their sixties, they had stepped into a new chapter—owning and running a small lakeside resort in a tourist town. Six cottages on a fishing lake became more than a business; they were a place of welcome. Friends, family, and strangers came and went, filling the space with laughter, food, and stories. They weren’t wealthy, but they were rich in the things that mattered—connection, purpose, and belonging.

At 62, my parents were caretakers—not just of cabins, but of experiences. Their world revolved around gatherings, shared meals, and the quiet satisfaction of creating a space where people felt at home.

And here I am, at the same age, contemplating my own next chapter. My path has been different—teaching, storytelling, art, and family. Yet I find myself asking similar questions: What does it mean to transition well? How do I move from one form of usefulness to another? In many ways, I’m searching for my own version of that lakeside resort—a place where purpose and hospitality intertwine, where my gifts create something meaningful for others.

My parents’ lives at 62 remind me that life doesn’t wind down; it shifts. They found new ways to welcome, to serve, to build something that mattered. Maybe that’s the best lesson to carry forward—the game isn’t over. It’s just another round of creating, giving, and inviting others in.

The question now is: What am I building?