When I was in my early 50s, I often spent my drive times planning my funeral. Readings and hymns, mainly. I wasn’t suicidal in the least. I just knew my life was nearing its end. I had done what I came here to do. I had children and raised them. In a few years, my daughter, the baby, would be in college and my work would have been done. It was all very matter of fact, no drama, no sadness even.
I got a job as webmaster for my daughter’s high school. “Wow! This is so much fun!” I thought. I participated in planning the school’s second-generation website. The web building team respected my ideas and opinions. Once the site was built, I populated all the pages with informative, engaging copy. I put in the links to connect the pages, as needed, and to access email forms for the teachers and staff. I got students to write updates and send them to me to post. The person writing the sports pages had to quit so I learned to write football and basketball stories including scoring, penalties, highlights. New light glowed in my life.
My college sweetheart reached me to talk, to thank me for the relationship we’d had in college and after. We renewed our friendship. The glow of new light sparkled.
One day I realized I was no longer planning my funeral. When my daughter started college, I left my husband and stepped fully into my new life as once again an independent person, now fully fledged, so to speak. Life moved along with a few rapids but mostly clear water moseying down the stream.
During the year I was 69 especially as my birthday approached, I had a sinking spell. Again, not suicidal just contemplating my age. “When you’re 70, you’re no longer getting old,” I thought. “You’re there.” The day came and went and nothing really changed or has changed. Agility wanes. Memory seems to have shut some drawers and names and exact words can be illusive.
So, yes, youth is gone. In its place, though, are a panoramic view of life and so much wisdom and understanding. Seasons of life are precious, each of them is precious.
— Marmar
I got a job as webmaster for my daughter’s high school. “Wow! This is so much fun!” I thought. I participated in planning the school’s second-generation website. The web building team respected my ideas and opinions. Once the site was built, I populated all the pages with informative, engaging copy. I put in the links to connect the pages, as needed, and to access email forms for the teachers and staff. I got students to write updates and send them to me to post. The person writing the sports pages had to quit so I learned to write football and basketball stories including scoring, penalties, highlights. New light glowed in my life.
My college sweetheart reached me to talk, to thank me for the relationship we’d had in college and after. We renewed our friendship. The glow of new light sparkled.
One day I realized I was no longer planning my funeral. When my daughter started college, I left my husband and stepped fully into my new life as once again an independent person, now fully fledged, so to speak. Life moved along with a few rapids but mostly clear water moseying down the stream.
During the year I was 69 especially as my birthday approached, I had a sinking spell. Again, not suicidal just contemplating my age. “When you’re 70, you’re no longer getting old,” I thought. “You’re there.” The day came and went and nothing really changed or has changed. Agility wanes. Memory seems to have shut some drawers and names and exact words can be illusive.
So, yes, youth is gone. In its place, though, are a panoramic view of life and so much wisdom and understanding. Seasons of life are precious, each of them is precious.
— Marmar
Beautifully stated. My guess would be that your youth is not gone. It shines through your excitement in your work and rekindled relationships. Our bodies do fail, but our spirits still can play as well and maybe better than ever......at least that's what I tell myself. Here's to owning your age and your very clear wisdom!
ReplyDeleteThanks for your note. True that my youth is not gone. You've brought to mind this memory. When I was a few years into therapy and had left my husband, sometimes I'd be in a group talking about age. I remember saying "I'm 30 years younger than I was two years ago." Yes, my spirit is young and happy!
DeleteThis was an exciting piece to read, Marmar! It is so cool to develop a new interest at our ages. I was never a mother, so I did not have that overwhelming responsibility and then release (partial release). But I went through phases, obviously. My marriage and various jobs... went through phases. During COVID I did more with music than I ever thought I would...and I was (slightly, haha) OLDER than you are now! (Macoff)
ReplyDeleteAges and stages unfold and are remarkable really when look with fresh and caring eyes.
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