You reach an age when life becomes a (text) adventure game: you wake up in a field next to a mailbox with a letter in it, and on the ground is a bag with items some of which are useful now, some that may be useful later, and others that are not useful at all.
It may or may not be your beautiful house and your beautiful wife (if I may mix the metaphors a moment) but it's all you have. The challenge is working out what to do with what you have within the limitations of the game, which can involve challenging your idea of what the limitations of the game are...
I remember another comment on HN where someone talked about their 50s and looking through the rear view mirror wistfully.
It's not like you can do nothing when you get older, it's more like you know you can't do everything.