Musings about 50
Fifty. There are fifty states in our great nation. Fifty cents is half a dollar. Fifty years of marriage is considered the “golden anniversary.” Apparently I am turning 50 this year, in August. Or as my husband likes to say, “I will be starting my 51st year.” He has finally learned not to say this to me. For some reason my family feels the need to remind me that I will soon be turning fifty. I don’t understand their sick need to talk about my impending age. They seem excited about it. I like to be in denial. If I ignore it then I can continue to be 25. I mean age is just a state of mind, right?
I keep telling myself that age is just a number but those around me insist on telling me something different. What’s the big deal about fifty anyways? What do I get when I turn fifty? At sixteen you have a chance to experience independence and freedom because now you can get a driver’s license. You even get to be called sweet and maybe you get your first kiss. When you turn 18 suddenly the world changes for you. You have the right to vote. You can be tried as an adult. You can buy tobacco products and spray paint. You can sign legal documents. Eighteen is a big deal. But really most young people don’t care about eighteen. They’re all waiting for 21. Finally, you are truly an adult. You can drink legally! Woohoo, let the party get started. Some people recognize 25 as a big deal. It is the quarter century mark after all. This is where reality starts to hit most people as well and adulthood really starts. Then thirty sneaks up on you. People start to lament the end of their youth. Thirty five seems to result in even more complaining that people are so much closer to forty. Then forty hits and what do you get? Black balloons, gravestones on the birthday cake, and presbyopia. Obviously it’s all downhill from here. But now when someone points out that you are officially middle aged friends are quick to say not anymore! Forty is the new thirty! For some reason I never hear people recognize 45. I think this is when people start ignoring the mid decade birthdays because fifty is now too close. If forty is no longer the middle then doesn’t it stand to reason that fifty must be the new forty and you can no longer deny the halfway mark?
Middle age. That sounds so ominous. Suddenly you must accept the fact that you have in all likelihood lived at least half of your life and probably more than half of it. But I still have so much to do my brain whines! And I finally have some level of confidence that I was lacking for the first half of my life. I have a great idea. Let me do a Benjamin Button; I’ll just start going backwards now. Surely I would make better decisions the second time around, right? And if I can just reverse my age but maintain my new found confidence and intelligence think how great I would be; I’d have a body that can physically keep up with me!
Sadly this is not how life is designed to happen. Just as I have found myself the world starts to see me as irrelevant. My daughter one time told us that people aren’t interested in reading books about people over forty. We have never let her forget that. But I do see that attitude in so much of society. My staff will refer to a 35 year old applicant as the “old” person that interviewed. Well if she was old I must be ancient. “Young” people don’t really find my opinion valuable because I am so out of style, old fashioned, or maybe I just plain don’t get it. I remind them of their mother or maybe even their grandmother. Geez. Maybe they are the ones who don’t get it. Sometimes I wish I was a member of a society that values the aged. China, Korea, American Indians, Greek, even ancient Romans recognize the value of their elderly. In these cultures one can be proud of aging and really continue to be an asset to society as opposed to our Western culture that is so obsessed with youth that people try to hide aging anyway they can. Botox, face lifts, boob jobs – no thank you. I earned everything I have I say. But then I look in the mirror and I look at my daughter. I wish I still had young skin, perky boobs, flat stomach but if I have those surgically created they will definitely look out of place on me. And there’s no way to fix it everything-hands, knees, neck will still give away the truth. I may fight ageing but I plan to do it gracefully and naturally and in the end I hope beautifully.
So here it is. I am turning fifty in two months. What do I get for my fiftieth? Nothing as exciting as any of those younger ages. Why doesn’t the government give me a watch or a block of gold for this milestone? I really like the idea of gold. I think party decorations should be gold; like a 50th wedding anniversary! Doesn’t that cheer things up? So apparently what I get is this:
- It’s time to come off the pill. “After all we need to know if you’re in menopause.” Why can’t we just keep wondering? Things seem to be working right now. I see no need to know this piece of information. Menopause happens to old people.
- You look great for “a woman your age.” Why can’t I just look great?
- Time for a colonoscopy. Well that sounds fun. Who needs cake and ice cream when you can get a good intestinal cleaning?
- Time for a stress test. Look I have led a stressful life for fifty years. I can pass that with flying colors!
- Oh look. Your AARP card came in the mail today. I’m nowhere near retirement. I’m about to take out a huge loan for my business. Was it a mistake to start this building project so late in life? It’s going to take me a while to pay this off. I know companies don’t really like applicants over fifty so I can’t be looking for a new job but I’m also nowhere near retirement so I don’t need that card!
- “Your lab values are normal for a woman your age.” Well that’s great but are you accounting for my mental age? It is different from my physical age so I’d like my lab values to match my mental age. Hopefully we are on the same page there.
I frequently see sayings that fifty is when you learn to live without caring what others think. Is there ever a time that we can truly live without concern of judgment from others? I hope so. I am trying to ignore the comments of others. I am hiking the Inca Trail in Peru a few weeks after my birthday. It is a feat for any lowlander. Apparently it will be a bigger feat for a fifty year old. I wish I could get people to just say “That’s cool. Wow you must be tough. I don’t know if I could do that!” When I’m 85 and hiking Angel’s Landing or Mount Whitney I hope people will say, “Man, I want to be like her!” Not, “Isn’t she a cute little old lady. Crazy but cute. It’s impressive what she can do at her age! She won’t be able to do that much longer!”
I’m going to keep ignoring that number. As long as I ignore it my mind and my body have no excuses so they will perform however I need them to. As Mark Twain said, “Age is a state of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” I feel sorry for the younger generations. I will not allow them to take the joy from my life and try to make me feel irrelevant. I’m happy with who I am and where I am in life. And I plan to make the most of every minute I am given. So go ahead, be jealous. I hope you can be as healthy and active and happy as I intend to be.
My dad never complained about growing older. He always said “It’s better than the alternative.” How right he was. No one ever realized how old he was until he died. It was attitude that kept him young. So I am going to continue to look at this as just another birthday. Maybe I will embrace it and say good job to me and ask myself “what do you plan to do with the next fifty years?”