I'm 65 and realizing I have more years behind me than ahead. It's changing how I live.

• Turning 65 forced me to look back on my life, which has gone by in a blur.
• It's hard to believe that I have more years behind me than ahead. How did that happen?
• As I care for my aging mom, I'm pursuing my first novel and embracing aging with hope.

If I'm being honest, I'm freaking out. I am trying to grasp the reality, the ramifications, the ridiculousness that somehow, I am 65.

How did this happen? Where has time gone?

The years stacked up quickly. I remember chunks of time vividly, but quite frankly, there are some stretches when I was seemingly sleepwalking through life, so the memories are vague, and some are just, well, gone.

The years went by so fast

The early years — being a kid, middle school, the teen years, and college days — are all easily recalled.

My 30s, though, were all about transitions, including marriage, a baby, and juggling it all with work. There were high highs and low lows, and much of it is a blur. I blinked, and I hit 40. It was a wake-up call, but I still felt youngish and hopeful.

What surprised me most was how fast 50 came. Good grief, when did a decade start feeling like five years? Heavy sigh. I

was mostly grateful at this time in my life. By then, some hurdles had been crossed. I was enjoying life as a freelancer, even if I wasn't making the big bucks I envisioned. When it came to parenthood, the exhausting toddler and teen years were behind me. Things felt good, things felt stable.

Then we made some big changes

The stretch from 50 to 60 had some big milestones. My husband and I sold our home on Long Island and built a house in Jamaica. I was excited and nervous at the same time. What would life be like in Jamaica as I would spend more time there, and eventually retire there?

I also lost my beloved big sister, which was one of the lowest points in my life.

Part of what kept me going during this time was my desire to see the world. As a young girl, I had an imaginary club called "The World Travelers." That proved to be prophetic, as a lifelong dream of traveling finally became a reality when I added travel writing to my work life. Those trips — going on a safari in Africa, gorilla trekking in Uganda, setting foot in Russia and Australia — changed me forever.

Life took another turn

In my early 60s, I found myself living in Houston. Texas had never been on my radar as a place to live, but with my mom aging and my sister, who used to look after her, gone, I wanted to step in. Texas was a more affordable place to live, and one of my other sisters lived there, too.

Somehow, the last five years became a bit of a blur. It seems life is moving faster than ever. A week feels like three days, a month comes and goes with a batting of an eye. The clock is ticking, and doing so rather loudly.

At 65, I now feel that there are more days behind me than in front of me. I realize some things just aren't likely to happen in my lifetime. After all, I probably won't be a millionaire. But what is still possible? What do I want to do with my remaining time on the planet? That's where I'm choosing to put my energy.

I've kind of, sort of, made peace with where I am

At 65, I'm exhaling a bit, putting my shoulders back, telling myself it's time to do it, whatever the "it" is.

Fearing that I might never write my novel, I started doing some creative writing a few months ago. I'm determined to make it happen. If not now, when?

On good days, I kind of, sort of, make peace with where I am, not tripping about what's not happening now or didn't in the past, what I don't have. I'm choosing to be grateful about everything. I trust that I am right where I'm supposed to be. I know my story is still unfolding, and I can't wait to see what the next page brings.

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