Where is that elusive koach I was promised as the gift of this decade?

T

he woman in the makeup store last week gave me the antiaging moisturizer and disagreed with me when I told her I didn’t need it. The owner of the liquor store did not ask for my ID when I went in to buy wine for Shabbos. (For the uninitiated, the only appropriate response to my sharing that story with you is to gasp incredulously, “Wow, they’re really taking risks in that store, just selling alcohol without checking. I hope they don’t lose their license!”)

Ben shloshim la’koach, it says in Pirkei Avos. The thirties are the peak of strength. But I wonder, as the years move on and my thirties march closer to my forties, where is that elusive koach I was promised as the gift of this decade?

I look back to my twenties — getting my degree, getting engaged and married, building a career, and learning to be a wife and mother. In my twenties, I had koach. Now? I’m just tired.