What an excellent thread. I've read every page, and it's heartening to read so many different accounts of life, even the sad ones; so much candour and lack of self-pity.
At 68, and retired for a year, this thread got me thinking about the late 50s and can see how the nostalgia kicks in when you're still in the thick of work and child-rearing, while possibly KO'd by menopause and bereavements. Retirement is so far away, and looking so compromised now. I agree about the do it NOW view but can also see how daily life consumes the time and energy.
My 50s were a bit different as I'd just moved to Australia so had to start again in work and housing, so it was busy, exciting, and yes, stressful, but the newness took the edge off a good deal. Bereavement was horrible, all bar two of the numerous deaths of close ones in my 50s was premature. The loss of a sibling nearly thirty year ago changed my thinking profoundly in that thoughts of death have occupied my mind ever since. Losing my DH fucked our happy retirement plans, and yes, I do feel lonely sometimes, and really miss having someone to talk to. Phone calls to DC are lovely but not the same.
Like others on this thread, I feel health is key. Turning 60 was like somenone throwing a switch, an avalanche of aches and pains, all coloured by living alone. All resolved now. Ish.
Menopause was a breeze, very fortunate there, thanks to HRT, but a non-life threatening but very painful condition, now in remission, reminds me how existence can be turned upside down, literally overnight in my case. I've other deeply unamusing health stuff going on, but nothing that stops me doing anything day-to-day so I think of myself, ludicrously, as healthy. I don't consider this a virtue by the way, some better way of thinking, it's only occurred to me that I do this just now, writing it down. If I’m not in pain, it’s all good.
Back to the nostalgia. I’ve had, and have, a fortunate life. I'm not nostalgic in the sense of wanting to re-live my life, I just wish my DH wasn't dead. It was so nice to have someone who looked after me, not in the sense of carrying me around like some hapless ninny, but one who always always had me in their thoughts. It's a fucking chore being the grown -up all the time.