I'm not big on ages; never
have been. It was clear from a young age that they didn't really mean much...
People thought I was older when I was younger - probably because of my height.
Ever since my early 20s, people have thought I was younger than I actually am.
I had 2 ages I was interested in reaching: 16 to drive (until it became clear I
wasn't allowed to get my licence until I was an adult and could get it myself)
and 21 to drink everything (we could drink "low beer" at 19, but had
to wait for everything else until we were 21). To a mild degree, I looked
forward to 18 for my driver's licence, but other than that, 18 didn't mean
much. After that, it didn't matter.
A lot of people have
milestone ages for whatever reason... A younger friend anxiously awaited age
25, when her automobile insurance rates would go down. Another friend looked at
18 as a goal for "being an adult". Someone else was looking forward
to 35.
Milestone. Not my favorite
word for this kind of thing. One, it isn't really set in stone - it is only
part of you for a year. As the definition has it, after reaching a certain age,
there really isn't a stage of development or really any significant change,
other than what an individual puts into it. "Signpost" is really more
accurate in my book: it's just a bit of information that flashes by as you zoom
through life. It isn't like most folks are looking to get off at the next exit
after a certain signpost: it's just (insignificant) data.
Our society pulls certain
numbers out as milestone birthdays: 1, 2, 5, 10, 13, 16, 18, 21, 40, 50, 62,
80, 100... Fifty seems to be a major one, though... That "half a
lifetime" signpost, as our lifespan has gotten to the point where it isn't
unheard of for someone to live to 100 years of age. Time to break out the black
"over the hill" paraphernalia, gag gifts and old jokes. Whatever. It
is mildly entertaining, but for something that so many hold up to be so
significant, you'd think there would be more substance and pomp to the thing.
For me, 50 was more of a
"get it out of the way" kind of thing. It was annoying to have that
"looming" ahead in society's headlights and while it was a small bit
of a "hey, I made it this far!" kind of feeling, mostly I just wanted
it behind me, so I could get past all the "The Big Five Oh!" and
other comments and jokes. It is fun, to an extent, but just like all the
"Fool" jokes over the last 50 years, it gets tiresome.
Youth has much time on its
hands... vast numbers of years to look forward to... little experience
behind... Like many, I spent a good deal of my youth planning (read:
fantasizing) about the future and what that would look like. I had semi-goals
career-wise. I wasn't much interested in a career, once I'd put the idea of
teaching behind me, because whatever it was was going to be interrupted by my
big goal: being a mom and having kids.
Okay, I was raised in the
'70s, with lots of ideas of women's lib and doors opening up to possibilities
for females; I was raised by fairly progressive parents - especially older
parents (they were in their late 20's when I was their firstborn) - who did a
pretty good job of instilling in me the ideas that I could do what I wanted,
regardless of gender. I had many career ideas over the years, from vet to machinist
to fashion designer to auto mechanic to model/spokesperson, but through it all
I wanted to be a Mom.
I had picked out 7 or 8
names for my kids (the father's wishes and preferences never even entered my
thought process), decided how far apart in age they'd be, had hopes for which
one would be born in which order and what their interests and personalities would
be like. Seriously. I planned out in my head little scenarios where they'd have
troubles and I'd brilliantly come up with a solution or punishment or whatever
it was that the situation required - and let me tell you, fantasy Mom was
Awesome! I rarely ever failed, and when I did, it was just an opportunity for
me to be human and to be gracious about my failure. :: grin :: Oh, youth... !
...I think there was just some inner writer in me that just couldn't put the
character development into a workable, readable story in black-and-white. ::
grin :: But, I digress.
When our oldest was born (on
my birthday), I'm fond of saying that I "tried to hold out for a few
hours" until after midnight (he was born at 10:45 pm ), so he'd have his own birthday, but that he apparently had other
ideas. I was concerned he'd be resentful to share a birthday with his mom.
Other than that, *Best* birthday present *ever*. :: heart :: But what I didn't
realize at the time was that my birthday had almost ceased to exist. Not that it
was a big deal, because as long as there is cake, birthdays aren't really big
on my list, anyhow. There are other holidays with much more oomph than my
birthday that I look forward to.
Five years ago was our 25th
anniversary. Kind of big, more of a milestone kind of thing for me - definitely
moreso than a birthday. Because things have changed financially in the last 6-8
years, my hopes for a big-ish party/celebration fell to the wayside. I was a
little disappointed, but the goal was the important part; learning to live with
someone else and merge our lives together and *keep* it that way for 25 years
is a success in itself - the party would just have been icing.
In high school, I had 2
other close friends that are still friends today. One of them had a big party
for her 50th earlier this year and it was pretty cool to see the friends
& family who came to help her celebrate. There was fun and laughter and
camaraderie and FOOD - yummy, yummy food! - a lot of music, a little dancing,
old friends to catch up with, friends' kids to be shocked by their astounding
growth. It was nice. It was at about that point that I started feeling a little
blue about 50. We did not have the funds for a party - not that it would be
right/fair, since Dave didn't get one in November, anyhow - especially with a
17th birthday to plan for our oldest!
Try explaining that to feelings, though. Still, I have so much, where
others don't and I can be sad for a moment (or two... or three... ) and move
on.
Then, on my birthday eve eve,
a good friend (who'd been sick for a while) passed away. There are regrets
there and complications of those regrets, but "Only the Good Die
Young" has been playing in my head off and on since then. He was a kind,
gentle soul who overcame a lot and was a great conversationalist. I *loved*
exploring ideas with him and will miss those talks so much...
So, in the shower last
night, I came up with an idea to make the most of what I could out of my
birthday: my family & I would sit up together (whoever wanted to) and
talk and plan my "fantasy birthday": what we'd do if money and
logistics and normal "roadblocks" were no object. That would be fun!
Then, at midnight , I'd head to bed with my youngest. As I got excited
about this idea, I stared planning on what I might want to do first. There was
an idea of a trip to a tropical local the night before, so I could wake up on a
beach at sunrise after sleeping in to my heart's content (timeflow be damned!
:: grin :: ) and a surprise party to wrap it up somewhere down the line, but
then my friend popped up in my head and my need to be here to organize my
oldest's celebration and I started thinking about the conflict he and I had
been going through recently... Darn growing up and separating one's self from
their parents, anyhow... Stupid nature. :~P And I thought, well, since we're
doing this fantasy thing, I'll get the negative stuff out of the way, first!
I'll wish for my friend to not just *not* die 2 days before my birthday, but
instead, he'll make a miraculous recovery and live to 110! And then, my teen
will come to me and say how much he appreciates me and all that I've done for
him over the years and offer to focus on me this year on our birthday.... And,
well, by that point, I was weeping in the shower. Happy fucking birthday. So, I
went to bed, instead.
So, maybe it is
peri-menopause. Maybe it is 50. Maybe I'm emotional because it is That Time of
the Month. Maybe it is the hardship of the last few years. Maybe it is my
juvenile childish immaturity rearing its head. Maybe it is a combination or all
of those. Maybe it is something else. Next week, it'll all be behind me and
I'll wonder at the extent of my upset and depression. Right now, it is the
morning of my 50th birthday and I have tears running down my face with a heart
full of sadness in a quiet house with no plans for myself for the day. I'll go
read my birthday wishes on my wall in a little while and find some funny stuff
on Facebook to smile and laugh at. I have a day of work & catching up
on my craft show to look forward to tomorrow, so things will turn around here
at some point. And it won't be too long until that signpost is behind me, with
open road ahead to travel. But for now, in this moment, 50 sucks. And I didn't
even see it coming.
