Approaching seventy, she learns to live,at last. She realizes she has notaccomplished half of what she struggled for,that she surrendered too many battlesand seldom celebrated those she won.Approaching seventy, she learns to livewithout ambition: a calm lake face, nota train bound for success and glory. Forthe first time, she relaxes her hands on thecontrols, leans back to watch the coming end.Asked, she’d tell you her life is made out ofthe things she didn’t do, as much as thethings she did do. Did she sing a love song?Approaching seventy, she learns to livewithout wanting much more than the light inthe catbird window seat where, watching thevoracious fist-sized tweets, she hums along.