December 8, 2006
Decades are Deplorable
I awoke this morning to discover I am now a woman of a certain age. And I HATE it.
Am I sad? Yes.
Depressed? Don’t know and don’t want to waste the energy analyzing that possibility.
Do I wish I could turn back the clock? Definitely.
Do I resent not accomplishing enough by this point? Here’s where I choke and want to cry.
Do I want to slap the shit out of every person I run into today? Without a doubt.
These past two weeks have been a difficult time dealing with this horrendous milestone of my life. I’ve looked in the mirror and been surprised at the physical changes in me, not one of them for the better. But yesterday my tender-hearted daughter took me in hand and gave me a life’s lesson I soon won’t forget.
At their home my youngest granddaughter walked up to me with a bouquet and B handed me a card. Since the kids are sick and unable to attend school, I figured the flowers were my gift a day early and we wouldn’t get together on the day. But they weren’t.
The presents were only from B who wanted me to celebrate the last day of my then current decade. She advised me to relish all the good that had happened and reflect on the negatives with a promise to learn from them.
Her wisdom and kindness amaze me. I don’t know who B’s real mother is because I’m now convinced the hospital tossed her into the arms of a stranger. And I’m grateful they did.
I love you, B. Thank you for teaching this old dog a new trick.