This column was written ten years ago and what a difference a decade can make! Now that I'm in my 55th year (is that possible?) I still consider myself "middle aged" - although at last I'm finally seeing some benefits to aging, (like discounted hotel rooms for "mature (50+) travelers"). I think I still have a few years to go before I can really reap the senior discounts, but considering the cost (in years) I'll be patient.
Last month, in this very column, I made the declaration, “I am middle-aged.” Not that I became middle-aged last month... or even that I just realized it at that time... but that I first became willing to admit my status. Denial can offer great comfort, especially when referring to a woman’s age. Ever since I was old enough to do simple arithmetic, I knew I would turn 46 years old three days into the new century. And I had always considered the 45th year to mark the beginning of mid life. Some may think that age 40 is a better median (as more folks live to 80 than to 90) but with science and medical technology, people are living longer... maybe middle age shouldn’t begin until 50!
I have a simpler method to calculate this life stage by, and that is this: if you have a clear recollection of November 22, 1963, you have arrived at... or are fast approaching, middle age. For to me, the assassination of President Kennedy has become a great denominator of people. Do you remember where you were and what you were doing on that day in history? If you don’t, you have not yet reached the middle years milestone (at least for the time being). But the rest of us.... those who recall that drizzly Friday afternoon when school was dismissed early and a shocked nation became glued to black and white television sets.... We, the Baby Boomers... yes, the Pepsi Generation... have indeed reached the pinnacle of life’s hilltop!
I should have suspected this time of life was approaching a few years ago, when there was a trend in radio stations to play “golden oldies” (and I knew the words to all the songs!) Suddenly, the weddings we were invited to were not those of our friends, but of their children... To go out for an evening no longer involved getting a sitter, but checking to see if the other couple had to watch their grand kids.
And if life situations aren’t enough to convince you there is a change going on... the physical symptoms cannot go unnoticed. My first clue may have been my eyesight. I have worn contact lenses for many years and have enjoyed perfectly corrected vision during that time; however, about a year ago, I discovered my formerly nearsighted eyeballs were not seeing so well on the “near-side.” A pair of generic reading glasses alleviated the problem, but during the b.c. and a.c. time periods, (before and after contacts) I found it difficult to “read”. The mere suggestion of bifocals was laughable. Why would I want to buy glasses when I had a pair I could see almost everything with already? So I came up with a workable solution.... I simply put the reading glasses on in addition to my regular glasses! TaDah! I can read without any difficulty whatsoever. My family hasn’t adjusted very well to my invention though.... although they know why I’m wearing two pairs of glasses, they continue to ask me why I do so... and it is basically understood that I am not to wear both pairs in public or the presence of visitors.
There are, of course, many other physical signs of advancing age. My formerly cast iron stomach has become quite sensitive to certain foods. I experience occasional shooting pains in my hands and feet which I strongly suspect is the onset of arthritis. Happily, I take comfort in the fact that I must be enjoying life to a greater dimension, as my laugh lines have become much more apparent.
Most of what I have mentioned, I must merely accept. But there is an exception to this rule and that is with regard to gray hair. Although I’ve not been overrun by the little varmints yet, I have had an increasing awareness of their more frequent presence. When I spy the wiry critters, they are promptly plucked from my scalp. I repeat this ritual as necessary, but was advised that if I didn’t want gray hair, I might want to consider the use of hair coloring rather than tweezers. Granted, bald may be less becoming than a chemically induced shade of dishwater! So with that thought in mind, a few months ago, I took the plunge and shampooed in a nice shade of auburn. Oh boy! Not my natural color, but quite a conversation piece! In the days and weeks following, I came to the conclusion that much time and effort can be spent sweating and starving only to have no one observe weight loss.... a new dress, costing more than one would admit, can go unnoticed... but I can assure you, one five dollar box of red hair color will grab the attention of everyone you meet! “Going for the Julia Roberts look?” a fellow at church asked me. “No,” I responded, “I was actually aiming for that angel, Monica!” It was the most fun I had had in a long time! I’m not out to deny my age (I’ve just told it to the greater Cedar Valley Christian community!) and I’m more than happy to act it.... but is it required that I look it? Maturing women needn’t try to look a generation younger, but they don’t want to be mistaken for their husband’s mother either. Who would have thought we’d be facing this predicament back in the days of Dippity-do?
Another annoying affliction I’ve discovered, is the occasional whisker growing from my chin. Has living in a house with all males affected my testosterone level? Back to the mirror and tweezers as I caution my husband to nix his razor offer. And not to be taken lightly, is the issue of gravity, which I no longer consider my friend. That invisible force which previously kept my feet planted firmly on the ground, now threatens what perk I have left in my parts! As one co-worker put it, “Sweetie, from here on out, everything either sags, bags or drags.” How encouraging. It’s all enough to make you want to have a mid-life crisis. Fortunately, I’m too busy to schedule one and too tired to pursue an alternate trauma. The time has come to simply be the “Best 44” I can be and realize certain dreams will most likely go unfulfilled. I’ll never be rich... famous... or wear size 10 jeans. Ready or not... middle age has not only knocked at the door of my life, it has come right in and made itself at home! Am I going to let it rob me of the joy God has planned for me all of my days... (not just those of my youth?) Absolutely not!
Proverbs 16:31 says gray hair is a crown of splendor attained by a righteous life.... Am I as righteous as my age (or hair) suggests? How about love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.... for a “mature” member of God’s orchard.... what kind of fruit am I producing in my life? And then there’s Titus 2:4 which admonished the older women to train the younger women to love their husbands and children. Have I assumed the duty of role model and mentor? Have I yet become someone to be looked up to, or am I still only dependent upon the “older” women in my life? Have I reached “middle age” spiritually? I’m afraid I have a way to go on that journey, and it is of far greater importance than the temporal physical accompaniments of advancing age.
I suppose I could continue to whine about the drawbacks of middle age, or I could “draw closer” to the One who made me... and become all He intended me to be! My pastor recently remarked that every game is won in the second half. That applies to the game of life as well. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to spend it on the bench! We’re not just getting older, we’re getting better.... so let’s just count it all joy.... celebrate... and make the most of the third quarter!
Last month, in this very column, I made the declaration, “I am middle-aged.” Not that I became middle-aged last month... or even that I just realized it at that time... but that I first became willing to admit my status. Denial can offer great comfort, especially when referring to a woman’s age. Ever since I was old enough to do simple arithmetic, I knew I would turn 46 years old three days into the new century. And I had always considered the 45th year to mark the beginning of mid life. Some may think that age 40 is a better median (as more folks live to 80 than to 90) but with science and medical technology, people are living longer... maybe middle age shouldn’t begin until 50!
I have a simpler method to calculate this life stage by, and that is this: if you have a clear recollection of November 22, 1963, you have arrived at... or are fast approaching, middle age. For to me, the assassination of President Kennedy has become a great denominator of people. Do you remember where you were and what you were doing on that day in history? If you don’t, you have not yet reached the middle years milestone (at least for the time being). But the rest of us.... those who recall that drizzly Friday afternoon when school was dismissed early and a shocked nation became glued to black and white television sets.... We, the Baby Boomers... yes, the Pepsi Generation... have indeed reached the pinnacle of life’s hilltop!
I should have suspected this time of life was approaching a few years ago, when there was a trend in radio stations to play “golden oldies” (and I knew the words to all the songs!) Suddenly, the weddings we were invited to were not those of our friends, but of their children... To go out for an evening no longer involved getting a sitter, but checking to see if the other couple had to watch their grand kids.
And if life situations aren’t enough to convince you there is a change going on... the physical symptoms cannot go unnoticed. My first clue may have been my eyesight. I have worn contact lenses for many years and have enjoyed perfectly corrected vision during that time; however, about a year ago, I discovered my formerly nearsighted eyeballs were not seeing so well on the “near-side.” A pair of generic reading glasses alleviated the problem, but during the b.c. and a.c. time periods, (before and after contacts) I found it difficult to “read”. The mere suggestion of bifocals was laughable. Why would I want to buy glasses when I had a pair I could see almost everything with already? So I came up with a workable solution.... I simply put the reading glasses on in addition to my regular glasses! TaDah! I can read without any difficulty whatsoever. My family hasn’t adjusted very well to my invention though.... although they know why I’m wearing two pairs of glasses, they continue to ask me why I do so... and it is basically understood that I am not to wear both pairs in public or the presence of visitors.
There are, of course, many other physical signs of advancing age. My formerly cast iron stomach has become quite sensitive to certain foods. I experience occasional shooting pains in my hands and feet which I strongly suspect is the onset of arthritis. Happily, I take comfort in the fact that I must be enjoying life to a greater dimension, as my laugh lines have become much more apparent.
Most of what I have mentioned, I must merely accept. But there is an exception to this rule and that is with regard to gray hair. Although I’ve not been overrun by the little varmints yet, I have had an increasing awareness of their more frequent presence. When I spy the wiry critters, they are promptly plucked from my scalp. I repeat this ritual as necessary, but was advised that if I didn’t want gray hair, I might want to consider the use of hair coloring rather than tweezers. Granted, bald may be less becoming than a chemically induced shade of dishwater! So with that thought in mind, a few months ago, I took the plunge and shampooed in a nice shade of auburn. Oh boy! Not my natural color, but quite a conversation piece! In the days and weeks following, I came to the conclusion that much time and effort can be spent sweating and starving only to have no one observe weight loss.... a new dress, costing more than one would admit, can go unnoticed... but I can assure you, one five dollar box of red hair color will grab the attention of everyone you meet! “Going for the Julia Roberts look?” a fellow at church asked me. “No,” I responded, “I was actually aiming for that angel, Monica!” It was the most fun I had had in a long time! I’m not out to deny my age (I’ve just told it to the greater Cedar Valley Christian community!) and I’m more than happy to act it.... but is it required that I look it? Maturing women needn’t try to look a generation younger, but they don’t want to be mistaken for their husband’s mother either. Who would have thought we’d be facing this predicament back in the days of Dippity-do?
Another annoying affliction I’ve discovered, is the occasional whisker growing from my chin. Has living in a house with all males affected my testosterone level? Back to the mirror and tweezers as I caution my husband to nix his razor offer. And not to be taken lightly, is the issue of gravity, which I no longer consider my friend. That invisible force which previously kept my feet planted firmly on the ground, now threatens what perk I have left in my parts! As one co-worker put it, “Sweetie, from here on out, everything either sags, bags or drags.” How encouraging. It’s all enough to make you want to have a mid-life crisis. Fortunately, I’m too busy to schedule one and too tired to pursue an alternate trauma. The time has come to simply be the “Best 44” I can be and realize certain dreams will most likely go unfulfilled. I’ll never be rich... famous... or wear size 10 jeans. Ready or not... middle age has not only knocked at the door of my life, it has come right in and made itself at home! Am I going to let it rob me of the joy God has planned for me all of my days... (not just those of my youth?) Absolutely not!
Proverbs 16:31 says gray hair is a crown of splendor attained by a righteous life.... Am I as righteous as my age (or hair) suggests? How about love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.... for a “mature” member of God’s orchard.... what kind of fruit am I producing in my life? And then there’s Titus 2:4 which admonished the older women to train the younger women to love their husbands and children. Have I assumed the duty of role model and mentor? Have I yet become someone to be looked up to, or am I still only dependent upon the “older” women in my life? Have I reached “middle age” spiritually? I’m afraid I have a way to go on that journey, and it is of far greater importance than the temporal physical accompaniments of advancing age.
I suppose I could continue to whine about the drawbacks of middle age, or I could “draw closer” to the One who made me... and become all He intended me to be! My pastor recently remarked that every game is won in the second half. That applies to the game of life as well. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to spend it on the bench! We’re not just getting older, we’re getting better.... so let’s just count it all joy.... celebrate... and make the most of the third quarter!
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