Birthday Blues

Here is something I wrote up for the MMP over at the Dope, back when I still posted regularly over there. I post it here now because tomorrow is my Bday, and so much of it still applies. I'm sure to add more thoughts to the end of it, just to confuse the hell out of everyone.

From 7/12/07:

7/11/12
I stumbled across this today when I was attempting to clean up some Word files and documents. It's timely and I find myself in a contemplative, nostalgic mood tonight. I'm 50 tomorrow. 50.

It gives one pause. Or it should. I have lived the bulk of my life--I may see 100, but it's doubtful. 85 is a distinct possibility due to good genes and no killer chronic illness. Still, I can't help but feel I'm on the downward slope.

I've been noticing body changes that are, while not distressing, aren't what is touted in the media and culture as Wonderful Things: the neck is starting a creeping crepe, the breasts are not as perky and have changed with menopause, the skin is as dry as the Mojave in July, no matter what. But no crow's feet, no additional poundage (well, let's be honest--I never lost the baby weight...), no false teeth. Neither of my sisters made it to 50, not the Bday sisters, that is. They are always with me, each birthday. Time was, that was a burden and I resented it. Now it is a gift and I miss them and remember our shared times and smile.

I'm supposed to want to join the AARP now and become some feisty, annoying bitch who wears purple and red hats or some shit. Yeah, not so much. Inside, I still feel quite young. Oh, I know I'm not, and lord knows I could have used the perspective the years have given me, IF I had had the sense (doubtful) to heed it, but I truly don't feel middle-aged. I must be though, since I disapprove of most tattoos on principle, hooking-up, most modern "music", ecstasy use, Justin Bieber, and the whole Kardashian clan.

So, I suppose what I mean by still feel young is that the girl I was once is still strong in me. I still look at trees in a forest and size them up for possible climbing/fort building. I still enjoy being outside, listening to the birds talk to one another, the heat of the sun on my shoulders, a cool breeze on my face. Watching snow fall is amazing to me--that's trite as hell to say, but it's true. I am happiest when the snow is falling. It brings me a peace like nothing else can.

I am still interested in good writing (the definition of good has changed for me over time), the classics of Literature and poetry still move me. Classical music or just the right pop song can send me as well. I can still laugh at life and the foibles of others (and usually at my own, thank god). So, it's all good.

What I wish I could do, so very, very badly, is talk to that young girl I can see in my mind's eye. What would I say to her? I'd tell her that it's gonna be ok, that she should take more risks, that it's up to her to create her life--stop waiting for it to happen and make it so! And I'd tell her that yes, she is pretty, she is smart, she has talents and gifts, and she matters. I'd tell her all the things I've learned over these years--things that were not told to me, although I do not blame my mother or father for that. They did the best they could and without their mistakes, I wouldn't be me...

Thing is, that girl is for all intents and purposes, gone. Others see a middle-aged woman when they see me, not a slip of a girl with long hair, out of breath from running. So, I need to tell her, this woman well on her way to crone status: go ahead, take risks, it's up to you to create your life. Yes, you are attractive; yes, you are smart, you have talents and gifts. Use the time given to you-you have nothing to lose and everything to gain from finishing your novel, submitting that poetry, working on your paintings. Create beauty, create joy, create life and a legacy of love for your kids. Remember this when the bills mount and the worries overwhelm: you matter. We all do.