Turning fifty was not a big deal, or so I told myself. I was in pretty good shape, things could be worse. After all, I was just "turning fifty". However, as of today, I am now officially "in" my fifties and that sounds ancient. The Hell with complaining about how old thirty seems and how life ends at forty. Get over it. Wait until you turn fifty.
I just don't think of myself as being "old". Am I fooling myself? Am I in denial? Do I need help? If so, just let me live in my own little world. Being accused of being "frumpy" is nothing new. I have been there for ten years or so, according to my youngest child, who sees herself as an expert in this field. She continues to remind me of how much my fashion failures embarrass her. As you can tell, I do not lose sleep over this much to her dismay.
Those age lines are now prevalent on my face. I do not have enough vanity to deal with them, although I do find myself looking in the mirror and more and more wondering what the difference would be should I take advantage of some of those miracle creams offered on TV. I can remember Aunt Kat covering her face with gobs of Ponds Cold Cream every night. And, the day she died, in her eighties, her face was soft, beautiful, and clear, but those lines were still there. My Aunt J'Nelle, always being a little more sophisticated, used Eterner 27, and, although she died at a much earlier age, she, too, succumbed to those dreaded creases.
But all that aside, if you are as old as you feel - I'm doing OK. In my mind I just assume I am going to live to be one hundred, so I can justify that my life is only half over. I would sink into a deep depression if I was only shooting for seventy five and therefore only had twenty five percent left. However, with fifty percent remaining, I need to start enjoying it, which leads to life's ultimate conundrum. Do we enjoy life as we want to and throw caution to the wind? Or, do we live cautiously, to ensure that our days are extended as long as possible.
Take Krispy Creme Donuts for example (only hot fresh ones) (See August 17, 2010). Do you enjoy one or two daily, because you really want to take advantage of the true joys of life. Or, do you abstain because you have read all the articles on the horrendous health consequences of partaking of such food? (And, die an earlier death due to the stress of having to forgo all those foods you love so much.) Oh, I could go on and on with my list of difficult decisions. Use the pedestrian cross walk or live dangerously and jay walk to save time? (Is the safety of using the cross walk going to give you more time to live than the time saved by crossing the street where you wish?)
I've paid my dues, cleaned my plate, returned my library books (with the late fees), remembered the birthdays, forgotten the pains of childbirth, and watched time fly. I think I can eat the donuts (as long as my pants still fit) or cross the street (as long as I look both ways), after all at fifty one, this dog can stay on the porch. That is until, I see something that merits my running with the pack.