I don't want to age gracefully, fuck that, I want to go down fighting. And in no way, shape or form am I talking about Botox or Lipo or even plastic surgery. I mean, I can't say never, but operations in any shape or form, particularly for cosmetic reasons, just don't appeal to me at the moment, not to say that they won't, but, honestly, I'm not really that kind of person. Nothing against anyone who is; I am all for whatever, whoever, whenever makes you feel younger, look younger, pretend to be younger. I'm just not quite sure about the acting younger thing. I mean, if I am being totally honest here, acting younger just means drawing unwanted and unnecessary attention to yourself. And, of course, we all know to whom that refers, just google, "reality tv."
Here's the thing; I really have no problem with aging. When I say that I want to go down fighting, I mean that I don't want to just waste away into that category of "old." I look forward to getting "old" and to hopefully having grandchildren and to sitting with my friends at happy hour and to walks on the beach with Tim, but I also look forward to running some races, doing some yoga and waking up each morning for the rest of my life asking the question, "What will I do today?" instead of focusing on what I no longer am able to do. I'm already at the point where I can only do certain things for a length of time now without a full recovery session. Of course I am talking about mostly physical activity, but I'm also referring to activities that involve sustained periods of sitting or driving or listening to stupid people talk... had to throw that one in there for good measure. I like the idea that as I age, I'm carrying another year with me. Sandra Cisneros (of House on Mango Street literary fame) wrote a short story entitled "Eleven" and in this story is a little girl who is turning just that age; in fact, it is her birthday on the day that the story takes place. At one point in the narrative, she comments on how she feels like a compilation of all of those ages leading up to 11 and that, in certain instances, she is 5 or 9 or 1, depending on what is happening and how she feels about it at that moment. She even compares those feelings to the little dolls that fit inside of one another, from smallest to largest; a collection of ages, if you will. I love this idea with my whole being... because some days, even in some moments, I am not 42; I am 16 or 25 or 7, walking home from school for the very first time with Keiko who lived down the street from me. I love the idea that every bit of who I was is now another little "doll" that is somewhere forever tucked inside of me, waiting for the opportunity to get to emerge and, maybe for just a moment, live again.
I'm not afraid to die, I've said that before. And, like most ideas, this one will probably run its course and someday I will amend that thought. But for now, the idea of death is just surreal; something that is out there, waiting for me and because it is inevitable, I don't worry about it. I don't worry that I will develop some disease or perish in some accident because whatever is in store for me, in my thought process, was decided long ago and I am just living out my destiny, one year at a time or, probably more accurately, one day at a time. I'm fearful of not living, of just accepting what is without asking myself why it is that way. I'm afraid that another 42 years will go by and I won't have any new experiences racked up under my belt. I'm afraid that my children won't remember me as I am now, crazy and angry and full of life and, I want them to remember be like that. I want to remember me like that.
I got to visit with a former student this past weekend and he got to meet my very best friend at the same time; quite an opportunity. And as we socialized and caught up, I was mindful of the fact that many years separated us from him. 16 to be exact and there were a couple of moments when I felt out of place, but never old; that wouldn't have been the word to describe how I felt. I felt a lot like that character from the story; a combination of ages all at once, both lost and found. I enjoyed the age difference because I realized that it doesn't mean anything other than who you are in the moments that make up your life. It matters only in how you respond to others and whether or not you are gracious and kind and forgiving or whatever you need to be right then. And in the end, recognizing that 26 or 42 really isn't the issue at all; the issue is making the time and taking the moment to reconnect with someone who was a part of a time in your life that mattered very much.
My family is kind of hung up on age and I'm not exactly sure why. I hear constantly comments about how old everyone is or how old they look or how "remember when?" I find this kind of nonsensical for many reasons but particularly when someone who is in their twenties is saying it. There is no point in denying your age or where you are in your life because it is inevitable for everyone, we know that already, but what I think most of my family doesn't get is that I am perfectly happy with who I've become and where I am and I had my chance to be 18 and 33 and 11 and 19 and I tried my best to make those years worth living and worth remembering so that now when I look back on them I can sigh wistfully and smile, knowing that I did just that. I look at my sister and my brother and my kids and I am glad for them that they are going to get to have those years too; I only pray that they will. And I hope that they make the most of them because telling someone that they are old doesn't mean anything more than your are fearful of the same thing happening to you and, sorry to tell you, it's going to. It was my turn to be 23 and now it's yours and someday, it will be someone else's turn... so make it count.
I feel better than I have in 15 years: physically, emotionally, mentally. I am more active, stronger, more educated and definitely less patient than ever before, but that goes without saying. I do have 3 kids. Man I love those kids. Anyway, like my friend Coco said once; something to the effect of, "I like having scars, it means that you've lived." I think she meant the physical ones, but hey, let's throw in the emotional ones too, just for some levity here. To add to that, I like looking at my body and remembering where a scar came from or why certain body parts feel the way that they do. I like that my body is just a little softer than it was before I had children and I LOVED carrying them in my body; every movement, every shift was pure joy for me. I love that I feel stronger than I ever have and that my stamina is better than some people half my age because that tells me what I am capable of doing and how hard I can push myself. I really love that I can sleep very deeply, not for the longest periods of time, but often and that I can eat super spicy food before bed and not get a stomachache. I like the certainty that comes with knowing from where my next paycheck will come and, along those same lines, I like knowing from where my next orgasm will come; no pun intended. Well, maybe just a little "pun." But, again, that brings up the topic of sex and, as a woman who, well, let's face it, is at her sexual peak, there is certainly much to be said for middle age in relation to this topic. I think I can leave it at that. Just one more thing though and then I'll leave it at that, why the hell does this sexual peak thing have to happen in our early forties? Why isn't it happening sooner, later, in the future? Nature's cruelty I suppose or not, depending on how you look at it and/or if you have someone who is right there, waiting to pull you to the floor or whatever surface is handy. But, I digress just a bit.
Yes I dance around the house listening to songs that my kid put on my Ipod and I probably look like a complete jackass doing it. Yes I like to play in the mud and watch reality shows that crack me up because of the ridiculousness of the situations. Yes I love to eat sweets and stay up too late and read comic books. And yes I love to play tag, color in the lines and press playdough through the molds that come with the kits... but most of all, I love being all of those ages, every single moment and every single day where they combine to form a kind of lovely, tangential thread that pulls me through the universe, for however long I have, however quickly it wants to.
So the next time you look at me and think I'm old or wonder about my life or my age or my purported well being, just remember that I warned you; I warned you that your day is coming too my friend and when it does, there will be some 18 year old with a tighter ass and a larger bank account (maybe not at 18) and a faster car (again, same thing), but in the end it won't matter, none of it will because you, like me, are better than the sum of all your parts. You are the journey and, the end is nowhere in sight...
No comments:
Post a Comment