Aging Sucks

 

Aging sucks!

But, as a friend said, it beats the alternative.

On the other hand, it is an alternative that many have been denied.

As I push into my 80th year, I wonder how I got here, other than day be day.

The things that annoy me are the aches and pains, the physical limits. It is hearing about something that seemed like yesterday, and it turns out to be 50 or more years ago. It's taking multiple pills for blood pressure, to convince cancer not to come back, calcium to keep my back straight, and to convince my esophagus it doesn't want to spasm. I call it breakfast and make a joke out of it. It still sucks.

I don't mind being one breasted. That could have been done at an earlier age than it happened. I only wish I'd loped off the other one so I could go braless and look even in my clothes that are form-fitting.

I realize over all, my life has been good to wonderful. There were the painful three years after my divorce before I discovered how much better my life was single and how many more choices I had. There were some painful betrayals by people I thought were friends. It taught me to look for signs to avoid more disappointments. Overall, my life has been more interesting, freer and happier. I once thanked my ex for the divorce.

Somethings turned out differently than I wanted or maybe partially would be a better word. I'm not a best selling writer, but people read the 16 books I've published. Again so many writers never see their work published. Writing is as much a part of me as the blood running through my veins.

My dream of living in Europe has turned out better than all my dreams. Two days ago I was watching gentle waves lap onto the shore of Lake Leman. The water was so clear, I could see every crevice of the rocks underneath. On my walk home with the dog, the Alps were out in all their glory. This morning walking through my French village, seeing several friends and buying bread still warm from the oven is something I hope I'll never take for granted.

Career wise, I could have made different choices, but the ones that worked left me modestly financially secure with some interesting work. If I were to be reincarnated, I would still want to be a writer, work harder to be a journalist, or maybe an anthropologist.

My daughter was one of the lights of my life. I say she wasn't the thing I did best, but she was the best thing I did.

So I don't like the wrinkles that seem to pop up regularly. I don't understand why there's more on my left than my right cheek. I'm delighted with my white hair, something I wanted since my 20s. Okay it was chemo baldness that got rid of my red hair. As a vain woman, who hated roots, it is a relief not to hide in the bathroom while I dye my hair in secret. Yet I'm alive.

The older I get, the more friends I lose. Each one leaves a hole that is somewhat filled with all the memories of things we shared over the decades.

I have managed not to get fat, but since I was so skinny up until my 40s, it was easier than it was for some others. I wear fun clothes, not the house dresses and aprons with sensible shoes of my grandmother and her friends. Their clothes screamed aged. However, I don't want to be a piece of mutton dressed up like lamb as the saying goes.

After I "retired" at 63, I've had some wonderful, wonderful years. I ran a news service for seven years, wrote and had published several novels. 

I remet my soul mate (first time was 43 years ago this Thursday) after we'd lost contact for 24 years, and we have had eight fantastic years...including dealing with the ordinary and a couple of extraordinarily scary things as a team. Not a day goes by that I don't feel gratitude for this twist in my life, one I was neither expecting or wanting. Surprises are good.

I've been able to refine my appreciation for the little things: a bowl of tea in the morning, not just flowers but a bouquet of thistles and cotton balls, the lap of waves at Lake Leman and the Med, a piece of chocolate. The list could take up several blogs.

If our planned trip to Scotland gets cancelled as it looks it will at this time, I have to remember how many times I've been there. There will be other times to see friends, see Beatrix Potter's home, the Edinburgh story festival, a trip north while my beloved plays golf, have mac and cheese at my favorite pub, etc. Even if we don't go, I have memories of other times. Again I feel lucky that so many of these experiences were not one offs.

I am greedy. I don't know how many years (days, weeks, months) I have left. I want to make sure that no matter what the time frame, they are lived to the fullest. 

My pup Sherlock has just come in to the room. He wants a pat on his soft fur before settling down on the bed behind me. There is joy in touching his soft fur and looking into his eyes as he sends me messages of what he wants.

Life is a gift. It's many gifts.