My husband, I, and another couple had a belated birthday
celebration for me this weekend. We went out to a lovely restaurant for dinner
and then enjoyed some wonderful entertainment in the lounge. I had a great time
– really I did. Danced with my husband, had great conversation with friends, received
presents – that’s always a plus. But despite the superb company and awesome
food, I found myself continually watching the 30 to 40 something women who were
in the restaurant and discovered I was becoming envious of them. I hated that.
I don’t want to be jealous of anyone – well except maybe George Clooney’s new
wife, which should be allowed – because I realize I’m extremely lucky. I am a
decent looking, overall healthy 60 year old with an acceptable body, and a
family who loves me. In between my bites of salmon, I began questioning why I
was obsessing over something that they had that I could not have – namely
youth. Obviously, this is something over which I have no control. I began to
ponder, should I be thinking, as the old saying goes, “It’s better than the
alternative” and just be glad to be alive? I started to do some serious reflecting
and have been asking myself how I can get over this and accept where I am and
who I am at this time in my life. I want to get to the point where I don’t long
for the past or how I looked in the past or miss having a “presence” as opposed
to being invisible yada yada yada. I need to stop whining in my head. Why can’t
I be satisfied that I have two beautiful children and grandchildren, a good
marriage, and have had successful careers? Is something wrong with me? Is too
much of my self-esteem tied up with looks as opposed to brains? Man, if so, I
guess I’m shallow. Like an evaporating puddle. Maybe I need an intervention.
For a nanosecond I wondered if the women in the restaurant
looked at me and were envious of the wisdom gained throughout my years. Not a
chance. Let’s be honest. They don’t even look at me let alone long for my
wisdom and experience. Did I notice 60 year olds when I was their age?
Heck no. In our society we put so much more emphasis on looks than we do on
wisdom and obviously, in my own head, I have fallen into that trap. Shame on
me.
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| My sis and me at the Club Med in Cancun. I was a whole 23 years old. We were "hot to trot". |
This is a work in progress and on a very personal level. On
a practical level I believe it’s a waste of time to desire something that is
unattainable – meaning turning back time. And I hate to waste time – ask my
children. My sis and I have deep, but humorous, discussions about aging all the
time. Neither of us is real fond of being in the aging process. Unfortunately, we
have yet to convince each other that life is better in our 60s. We try though –
we really do. However as I edge towards my retirement from education I do feel a
bit of a spark as far as the possibility of learning something new and the
excitement of a new challenge. Could this possibly replace the aspects of youth
that I miss? Like dancing all night, having mind-blowing sex, or believing the
world is my oyster?
NAH – hell no - but it may make things a bit easier. I’m
just bein’ honest. This may take some time…or a facelift (just kidding – can’t
afford it!)
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| Skip ahead 34 years. I'm on the right, sis on the left. |
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