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| Me at twelve. I think I understood the world better then! |
Yesterday it happened. I still can’t quite believe it. Not
that it was a surprise, it’s been sneaking up on me for a long time. Yet still,
I was unprepared.
I turned sixty.
Or, as I like to say, forty-twenty.
Denial was how approached I my fifties. So I was forty-ten,
forty-eleven, and so on. It doesn’t seem to be working at sixty though. Only a
few years before I can get social security. Then Medicare (if it still exists).
These are good things, things that will cushion my senior years.
SENIOR YEARS???? WHAT THE HELL????
I remember when my first peer turned sixty and I thought, how strange. He doesn’t look like an old
man. Never really imagining that I’d round that same corner in just a few
years.
And don’t believe people who tell you that sixty is the new
forty. I REMEMBER being forty and my back was much more flexible then. I still
workout, but I can’t do a plank without spewing four letter words that would
wilt an acre garden. I’m certainly no
Ruth Bader Ginsberg. (http://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2017/02/rbg-ruth-bader-ginsburg-workout-personal-trainer-elena-kagan-stephen-breyer-214821)
Another thing about aging: I’m missing notes. I love to sing, in the car, in the shower,
and in the choir stall. While I used to be a soprano, the high notes are slowly
drifting away. Don’t have great low notes either, though I sing alto most of
the time. I’ve invented a new section in
my choir: Sopralto.
When I analyze this age anxiety I’m feeling, when I search
deep inside for the source of my discomfort, it comes down to this: how can I
be sixty, and still not feel like I’ve reached adulthood? Seriously, I’m always
looking around for adult supervision, just ask my husband.
If I’ve turned sixty and STILL don’t feel like a grown-up,
then chances are, I never will. This is stunning to me. It feels like there’s a
door I never quite entered, while others passed me by. Sure, I have a home and
family and career and checking account and other adult things, but I never felt
I acquired that adult wisdom I was supposed to get. I finally figured out what I wanted to be
when I grow up (and that came late), but I don’t have any keen sense of how the
world works and why, exactly, I’m in it.
I’m happy to be in it, though. I like how my life has turned
out, despite my lack of adultiness. By sheer luck I have two careers that
fulfill me, though neither pay very well. (If I’d become an adult, maybe I’d
have found something more lucrative? A stock broker? Doctor? Romance novelist?
We’ll never know!) With my adult husband, I’ve successfully parented multiple
pets and have four ridiculously pampered animals now. I’ve become a caregiver for
my stubborn, fiercely independent mother, who provides aglimpse of my sunset
years (spoiler alert: I’ll be cantankerous, opinionated, and tolerant of no
nonsense. But I will still love wine and chocolate.)
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| Sixty. Yep, SIXTY |
Here I am. Sixty. Not a grown up, but doing work I love and
surrounded by the people who mean the most to me. Yes, I have a bad back, and an
imperfect voice—but I’m ready to charge ahead.
Look out, seventy. You and I will meet in another ten years.
Okay Carla, I offer you a few alternative ways of describing sixty.
ReplyDeleteWhy not three-score. Better, represent it as a number. One of the alternative counting systems to our base 10 is base 20. Some ancients used it (fingers and toes). Sixty in base twenty is represented by 30 (three 20s and no units). Neglect to mention that the thirty you are referring to is actually three-zero base twenty! We call them alternate facts these days, but they are in vogue.
When it comes to singing call yourself a high mezzo – sounds pretty good and who is going to admit they don’t know what a mezzo is (a voice between soprano and contralto).
~ Jim
Sixty or not, only the DMV and Feds know for sure. In Ohio, we get a state-issued "Buckeye" discount card at 60.
ReplyDeleteYou look great, Carla. I thought I did until I had to get a new driver's license in NC. I looked so old! I feel good--maybe a bit less energy--but overall I have no complaints. My take on age is to ignore it. It doesn't go away, but dwelling on something you can do nothing about makes you go insane.
ReplyDeleteCarla, up until I turned 70, I considered sixty as upper middle-aged. Actually, I didn't think of myself as old until a few years ago. You don't look sixty at all, but it's not looks so much as how you see yourself, and how you feel. People are living a lot longer now so you have a good many years to go. Enjoy them.
ReplyDeleteThree score--- I like that! And age isn't what matters, you are right. I don't see myself as old. Mostly.
ReplyDeleteI remember my mother-in-law saying at her retirement party that she still wondered what she would be when she grew up.
ReplyDeleteWith a few unfortunate exceptions, I find every year to be better than the last. What does give me pause, though, is that of the four oldest children in my family, I am the only one left. The younger five are still going strong, though.
Age is just a number--I know I'm not in the best of health, but I was in my late 60's before I found out I had (and always have had) a serious congenital heart defect, and it turns out that now that it's been treated, I actually feel better than I have in years.
A newer employee at work told us a couple of weeks ago that he hopes 2017 will be a better year than 2016. Why was 2016 so bad? "Because I turned 30 and life is so serious when you're older." I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing. I told him I'm more than twice his age(and had another birthday today) and I'm much happier than I was when I was his age. I take life a lot less seriously, which I think only happens with age.
ReplyDeleteHappy birthday, Carla. Now that I have 70 breathing down my neck, 60 sounds pretty good. Enjoy it. The alternative is hard to think about.
ReplyDelete