Aging Clumsily

I've known a lot of people who have aged gracefully.  Even my mom, who doesn't do a whole lot of things gracefully, bless her heart, ages gracefully.

I'm more like my dad's mom.  On those few occasions when I acknowledge that I am aging, it's because my kids have done something wonderful and I'm beaming with pride;  or my granddaughter does anything at all.  The rest of the time I just get older kicking and screaming.

It's not because I fear death or have any regrets.  No unfinished business for me really, and I've had a truly amazing life.  There isn't much on my bucket list and the experiences I've had are superb.  They are, however, sometimes superbly horrible.  That's life.  You have to shake it off and wake up the next day and do it again.  Others are completely unbelievable.  From working with celebrities to having a son at 39, my life has been more interesting than anyone else I've ever known.  I'm grateful for that.  I'm also grateful for those who walk with me through both the good and the bad.

Most of the time I just ignore aging.  My aches and pains have not been (yet) simply from an aging body.  My memory issues aren't from menopause or senility.  That makes it easy to "forget" that I am not by anyone's definition, young.

I'm 57 years old, turning 58 in late November.  I had to do the math, because I generally can't easily think of my actual age.  If I had to choose, I think I'm somewhere in my early 40's in my mind.  Embracing the wisdom, agile enough to enjoy it.  It's been relatively easy since having a late life baby.  He's kept me young a long time.

Now, all my kids are adults.  I have a granddaughter and another on the way.  I have a fair bit of professional respect, and have earned it in a mostly male dominated field.  Twice.  I've lived in two countries, been to four, and visited more historic sites than I can even count.  I've seen stars and ghosts.  I've won big and lost big.  I prefer the former.

So now that there aren't a lot of goals for me, I've been finding it difficult to keep growing.  That isn't, however, what inspired this missive.  I read today that a woman I knew when she was a child, practically from birth, was killed in a car accident.  Her dad was the town pharmacist, her mom was a local theater star, and the whole family was VERY involved in our church.  Alan, Betsy, Lisa, Martha, Chad, and Matt Reynolds were the very fabric of our little town.  Lisa's sudden, tragic death has hit me very hard.

I stole this from Martha's Facebook

I'm used to people older than me dying.  Losing my dad in January sort of caused me to let go of that "elderly" generation, even though I still very much grieve.  Dying over the age of 70 seems natural.  I'm used to babies dying.  I've lost two, so when I hear of someone losing a child under two, I can let go of that too, even though it hurts.  Someone my kids' age I haven't often had to deal with so I pretty much don't give it any thought.

Lisa, however, was in my sister's age group.  These were kids I knew, and sometimes babysat or taught in Sunday School.  I can clearly remember them in elementary school, and have watched as they got degrees, spouses, children, confidence, independence.  These are people at the top of their game; the best time of life.  Their own kids are graduating, marrying, having children, seeing huge successes and devastating losses.  They are, by and large, in their early 40's--right where my own brain thinks I am.  My empathy is in overdrive.

Lisa is gone.  The heartbreak for her friends and family is unfathomable.

I really don't have anything else to say just now, so I will end here.  Hug your tribe.