While riding in the car recently, I glanced into the side rear view mirror and saw my mother's face...her mouth, her neck, the shape of her face. For most of my life and through all of my childhood, people exclaimed about how much I looked like my dad. I still definitely have his eyes and I have his personality, but the older I get the more I see my mother's face in the mirror.
Around my fortieth birthday, I realized that my once impeccable eyesight was changing, the eyesight that made it easy for me to thread a needle, to hand sew tiny stitches, to see well at night. But since then, other things have changed. My skin seems thinner and more fragile and the gray is showing in my hair. I tire more easily and can't seem to do the yard work that I used to do. My right leg aches in the winter and my hip sometimes goes out and makes me limp. I seem to need even more quiet time and I've always needed what seemed like a lot more than most people. I keep wanting to simplify my life. I want less stuff, fewer appointments. And more and more, it's the simple things that make me happy...a fire in the fireplace at night, the soft sheets on our bed, hot coffee early in the morning, a hot shower at night, the doves that sit in the sunshine in our backyard, the dark red rose that blooms outside our front door.
But along with my aching leg and hunting for my glasses, come small fearful moments when it occurs to me that I might be running out of time. That I might not complete the things that seem so important. That I might leave something undone. For the most part, I feel satisfied with my life and I am certainly more at peace with myself than I've ever been. I have no desire to go back to any era of my past. There are freedoms that come with aging that I don't want to give up, but there is always the unknown too. What will the later years of my life hold and what is it going to be like to see the finish line actually come into view? What will it be like when I lose my parents and then start losing my friends? What will it be like to grower weaker and then weaker still?
These years are intriguing to me...I feel more focused, more at peace, more sure of what's really important...and yet am often reminded by the signs along the way that I'm on the other half of the journey.
Around my fortieth birthday, I realized that my once impeccable eyesight was changing, the eyesight that made it easy for me to thread a needle, to hand sew tiny stitches, to see well at night. But since then, other things have changed. My skin seems thinner and more fragile and the gray is showing in my hair. I tire more easily and can't seem to do the yard work that I used to do. My right leg aches in the winter and my hip sometimes goes out and makes me limp. I seem to need even more quiet time and I've always needed what seemed like a lot more than most people. I keep wanting to simplify my life. I want less stuff, fewer appointments. And more and more, it's the simple things that make me happy...a fire in the fireplace at night, the soft sheets on our bed, hot coffee early in the morning, a hot shower at night, the doves that sit in the sunshine in our backyard, the dark red rose that blooms outside our front door.
But along with my aching leg and hunting for my glasses, come small fearful moments when it occurs to me that I might be running out of time. That I might not complete the things that seem so important. That I might leave something undone. For the most part, I feel satisfied with my life and I am certainly more at peace with myself than I've ever been. I have no desire to go back to any era of my past. There are freedoms that come with aging that I don't want to give up, but there is always the unknown too. What will the later years of my life hold and what is it going to be like to see the finish line actually come into view? What will it be like when I lose my parents and then start losing my friends? What will it be like to grower weaker and then weaker still?
These years are intriguing to me...I feel more focused, more at peace, more sure of what's really important...and yet am often reminded by the signs along the way that I'm on the other half of the journey.
2 comments:
I too have these kinds of thoughts...though you have expressed them much more eloquently. I often feel this season as a strange mix of panic and acceptance, which seems just a little weird. But I think you know what I mean. It is my dream to age gracefully and finish well...we'll see...
Deb, it's comforting to know that I'm not the only one thinking about these things. I want to age the same way as you...gracefully.
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