The Little Old Lady

I left off on the subject of time. And that brings me to aging.

A few months ago I celebrated the big Four-O, as in "Oh my goodness, I'm 40!"

For me, it has been a time of reflection and reassessment. During my 20's I couldn't fathom turning 40. During my 30's, the age 40 stood out there like a marker. I'd tell myself, "I have to do this and that by age 40." If I didn't get this or that done, there was always the next year since I wouldn't turn 40 yet. Until I turned 39.

Turning 39 was like a slap in the face. The whole year I was trying to hang on to the little bit of youth lingering behind because in my mind I would soon lose it forever. I would look in the mirror (I was a relatively young-looking 39) and see a little old lady lurking behind the still smooth skin. I caught a glimpse of her in a wrinkle by the corner of my eye; in the new stubborn grey hair that Ms. Clairol was unsuccessful in masking; in the stiffness in my hip when I got out of bed in the morning; and when I had to run back in the house because I not only forgot my car keys but my entire pocketbook.

I called on friends so we could "hang out", going out for drinks and dancing only to pay for it with an achey head and body the next day. I bought too-tight jeans and shiny tops then paired those with high heals. It was so uncomfortable but I was determined! We'd go to these places filled with beautiful 20 somethings in the prime of their life and full of energy.  So much fun, so much life - but after a couple of hours I was rubbing my sleepy eyes and waiting for the appropriate amount of time to go by to get out of there! I'd get home and quickly peel off the too-tight jeans and the shiny shirt then happily put on my soft pajama pants and t-shirt and jump into bed. Ahhhhh!

Then I turned to self-improvement. I paid a visit to the lasic surgeon to see if I was a candidate for eye correction surgery (turns out my corneas are too thin). I think I single handedly kept my fertility doctor in business during the worst economic crisis the country has faced since the great depression (our health insurance carrier raised our rates, but I don't think I had anything to do with that - - two other topics for future blog entries - fertility and health insurance). I started to work out (a good thing) but took it down a couple of notches after attempting to do 100's reps of squats, lunges, crunches and push ups resulting in days of sore painful muscles.

After a while I just started getting tired of trying to hold on to my ever-fleeing youth. The little old lady wasn't so scary anymore. In fact, she was sort of cute. Little by little I started to feel comfortable around her. She was sort of spry and not bad looking for an ol' gal. I began to look forward to my evolution. My mom is 60 and she is still fly. My grandma is 80 and she still has "it." Why not me? Maybe I'd live past 90! All grey hair tied up in a bun, smiling wise eyes, strong sense of self, unafraid - I liked the little old lady. She is me. I am her.

Coming to terms with the fact that I was no longer a spring chicken wasn't new to me. At age 34 I had faced and won a battle with cancer (which in and of itself deserves a blog entry), and because of that battle I am very much aware that aging is a privilege. But this was different, it wasn't the idea of my own mortality that I struggled with, it was and is the business of living with my mortality.

I guess that's why they call it "middle age crisis." One finds oneself smack in the middle of one's life (if lucky enough to live until 80 or more) and asking, "what do I do now?"

I am very lucky to have a job that pays me to make a difference in the lives of others and in society in general. My goals in life have always been altruistic. Serving others has brought me pleasure and peace. In everything I sought to do, this was a requirement. But now I want to do something that makes me happy. It's not like I want to stop doing the work I am doing, just that I want to spend my spare time doing something simply because it brings me joy. Anything else is a waste of time. Time that is precious in my old age.

One of my guilty pleasures is reading about vampires, and not just the Twilight kind. I have found myself at the library on a monthly basis borrowing books from Anne Rice's entire vampire series. The last book I read was Blood Countess, by Andrei Codrescu, a fictional story based on the real-life Countess Elizabeth Bathory of Hungary, upon whom much of vampiric mythology is based. This spring I will, once again, try my hand at gardening (although my thumb is far from green, in fact, it is closer to black since I kill every plant I get my hands on). As I discover a new-found love of cooking - even my husband has benefitted from my aging.

By far the thing that brings me the most joy is spending time with my husband, step son, parents, brother, in-laws, family and friends, but especially my nieces and nephew. When I look into their faces I see the sun, the sky, the stars, the whole universe emanating from them. Being on the other side of the country from them makes me sad sometimes, and after I visit with them I count the days until I see them again. My hope is that one day we will live closer to one another.

In the meantime, I am looking forward to traveling, painting, hiking, sunbathing and my priority is to make time for that. In these uncertain economic times, I don't know if I'll still have my job next year, but while God is willing, I will still have life.

So this ol' gal will continue to look forward to getting older and finding joy wherever it resides.