A Certain Age

When one  reaches a certain age (in my case, chronologically  sixty-one, mentally about seventeen), one sees things in a different light (sixty watts instead of one hundred, for example). One looks at things from a new perspective---from the nose up instead of a full-length body shot  (although that would have told me that my jacket was inside-out before I got to church. True story.

One tends to wear choker necklaces (called so because they are. They do. Whatever.) to hide the wrinkle (yes, you have one too), or a neck scarf...or horrors! a turtleneck in August. Or perhaps you don't give a damn and figure you've earned every wrinkle.

This is the age when you have to do stuff. You have to take a leap of faith from the airplane, or float over Oz in the wizard's hot air balloon, or write a book. You find something that you loved long ago and pick up the pieces. I found my writing again (my first job was as a copywriter), and time to go dancing.  Hubby found his goat (GTO for non-car buffs). Friend found husband number six. Let's not go overboard, here. And we don't have to do what we don't want to do.

Sixty-something has its perks.

At almost sixty-two I am blossoming.  I have changed jobs yet again (yes, some places prefer us older folks). I've developed a definite style that is mine (if it doesn't appeal to you, well, eat eggs). I've made a very minor venture into politics (just don't try to talk liberals and conservatives with me). I'm thinking about joining the Junior League.  My book is well on its way. I'm more active in my church (president of council, two committees and whatever comes along). I'm working on more. Busy, busy.

Some days I am very down. This cough and the palpitations (less lately) trouble me. My vision isn't improving. I'm sick of clutter but have no ambition to rid myself of it. My retirement looms ahead, but it will be semi-retirement--one job instead of a bunch of part-times. (Three months, four days.)

Other days, I feel like I do today. I'm happy for a few new adventures. I am loved--and I don't have to change anything  about myself to have that love continue. Today my faith can move a mountain. Today I am content.

Today, with the words of a friend who reminded me that sixty is sixteen Celsius; with the help of another who tells me I look good even if I don't; with roses from  hubby, a nail tech who keeps my hands lovely and my uni-brow at bay; with the joy of friends who have always been and new friends who simply are ...well, what else is there?

Except, of course, the sixty-watt bulbs and short mirrors, make-up and chokers that camouflage the flaws.

It's good to be a certain age. After all, you either get older or you don't.