Beyond 50 II
IT WAS a hard week for those of us who woke up sick early in the week and could only hope to be alive, fighting and breathing by the end of the week. As I write this, it's not yet the end of the week. Just almost. So, I'm still hoping—to make it. Because while I'm much better now, I thought I was, a few days ago but I only got sicker.
Yesterday, I eagerly hung the banner up, “The bitch is back in business.” But before the sun could rise again today, I had to eat humble pie and accept that I must have been broken in more pieces than I thought.
But I can choose to be forever broken. Or I can choose to heal and be whole again.
“Aging sucks.”
A good friend hits me squarely in the gut when she vibers all her fellow golden girls this forlorn message in the midst of a particularly horrible day for her, health-wise. “Stress is the cause.” She's right. But stress was hardwired into my brain from birth. The search for sanity continues to be a daily struggle.
What's the worst thing about being beyond 50? Illness. No matter how small or seemingly insignificant, beyond 50, every illness is a massive episode that always seems to get you too close for comfort to death's door.
I woke up Tuesday horribly sick. It was sort of a shock because there were no physical signs of a storm coming. Except that Monday night, I broke my heart.
I know I've said this so many times before. The people you love will always disappoint you at some point in your life. Because it's simply inconceivable that they can always live up to your expectations.
“You have a tendency to idealize all your relationships,” this pseudo-shrink tells me.
I must admit that against my exacting standards, it's probably statistically impossible for any human being to never ever break my heart.”
I can allow pain to change me—for the worse or for the better. Is it possible for pain to hurt me more if I choose for it to change me for the better? Pain can enfeeble but it can also empower.
Today was a difficult day for me. I had to give up doing many things I wanted to do because doing all of them would have risked my being unable to end the week, alive, healthy, functioning and capable of meeting my deadline.
I belong to a group of women, bravely sailing through many storms in life. It was a tough week for many of us. Some were sick. Some were exhausted. Some were mistaken. Some were upset. Some were betrayed. Some were heartbroken. Not a share-worthy week in the virtual world. But really just the normal week in the real world.
The best thing beyond 50? We know how to survive and thrive—despite seemingly unimaginable stress, insurmountable pain and incalculable loss. With age, we have masterfully acquired the art of resilience and re-invention. Beyond 50, we never lose hope while we live. It was a trying week for those of us who woke up sick and heartbroken early in the week and could only hope to be alive, breathing and still bitching by the end of the week. But I think we're going to make it. Yes. No doubt about it. Why? Because, beyond 50, we never give up.
Aging sucks. It's true. Sometimes. And maybe more times than we care to admit as our age grows. But the capacity to heal, be hopeful and live happily no matter what—now, that blows!