One day, a while back now, the AARP magazine started appearing in our mailbox. Neither Dave nor I had subscribed, but there it was, and to be frank, I wasn’t super happy about it. I didn’t even know an AARP Magazine existed! When we started getting it, in my 40’s, I thought, “What the HECK?” and tossed it in the recycling bin. But one afternoon I took a glance at it and found that it is actually a pretty good periodical, even if you’re not old. (AARP, for those who may not know, stands for American Association of Retired Persons.) Dave isn’t retired, and I don’t think I get to retire, so I dismissed it, trying not to take offense. Now, I read it regularly. It has all sorts of interesting information, besides the fact that, this month, George Clooney is on the cover. I have finally embraced my agedness.
There is an awful lot that is awesome about getting old. For instance, Dave quietly set this on his pillow this morning:
Isn’t that just lovely? See’s candy for breakfast in bed! And here’s the thing about being old that makes it dandy. I can leave the box out in the family room, gobble whatever I want, and I don’t even have to hide it from the kids cuz they all grew up and moved out! Awesome!
At dinnertime, which is basically whenever we feel like making something to eat (besides See’s candy), Dave and I still get giddy when we realize we can sit in our comfy spots in front of the TV and watch a show while we eat. Awesome!
I can get away with not wearing makeup, because it’s getting difficult to hide evidence of age anyway. This is besides the fact that we wear masks. Goodness, we’re gonna take those things off next year and exclaim how old everyone got! There comes a point, and I’m getting there, when wrinkles and age spots become beautiful. That’s Awesome!
And, when you’re old you can get away with saying things like AWESOME repeatedly because… you know… you’re old.
Plus, if you are growing old with someone like Dave Connors, you get absolutely indulgent breakfast in bed, which just patiently waits there till you wake up and doesn’t worry about getting cold. And then you go out in the kitchen and find this:
The very best part about March 5th, for me, is that I get to celebrate the two women on either side of me who also experienced new life on this day. My mom and I both gave birth on March 5th. Mom bore me, and I bore my Sarah. Don’t you think that is just magical? My Sarah is the epitome of love and devotion, and has made me feel cherished and appreciated since she was very small. Poor girl. She never got her very own birthday. But then, I do think it is sparkly fine that we get to share this day. I feel kind of like I am she and she is me, in a mysterious way.
The other night, when I was having trouble sleeping, I rolled over and saw George Clooney staring at me. So, like any intelligent woman, I grabbed him and brought him to bed with me. Turned the pages until I came to the… you guessed it…crossword puzzle on page 88. I clicked on my bedside lamp and scrunched the pillows behind my back, making sure not to wake Dave, and completed the whole thing in nothing flat.
Yup, I’m old.
(Bring on another year.)
