I turned 49 on my last birthday. You know how kids always want to be older? So when mine would have a birthday, they would quickly remind me that that meant they had COMPLETED that year and they were actually in the next. Seven wanted to be Eight, Thirteen wanted to be Fourteen, but Forty-Nine… she KNOWS what’s just around the corner. She isn’t so quick to jump to that one.
I’ll just say it out loud. Fifty. 50. Five-O.
And when my dad turned 50, I told him if he were furniture, he’d be worth more as he’s finally an antique. Not so with humans. Wasn’t I cute? Not so funny anymore.
I’ve never been the type to hide my age. Maybe it’s too many years of Popeye saying, “I am what I am!”
I don’t color my gray hair. Although my kids beg me to. I finally got them to admit that they simply think I’m that much closer to dying by having gray hair. Irrational? Probably. I’m not ruling it out, but it’s not high on my list. Plus, Ron is 10 years older than me, and has white hair. He has for a while now. I think my little gray “highlights” seem appropriate! ha! But I will say that a plus to having gray hairs is that they come in wavy and thicker. I’ve always had limp brown hair…this is simply making it more interesting!
I’ve spent a lot of my adult years raising kids. I’m still not done. And now my mom has moved here, so I help her as well. I think they call us The Sandwich Generation when this happens. It’s easy to just go with the flow and spend the day putting out other people’s fires. But time keeps going. And now there are probably more years behind me than ahead of me. I think it’s time to work on my own personal Bucket List.
Maybe the winds are all about to change…