“You’re what? Forty years old?” I grimace before I remember who I’m talking with, then prepare myself for the usual you’re-just-a-spring-chicken lecture. Instead, she simply nods. “I’m sure it does feel scary, starting over in the middle of your life. But you have to remember that it’s never too late to change. To grow. To find what makes you happy. I didn’t do it until I was seventy-three.”
