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Today is my last day in my “40s.” I am holding on to that era with the very tips of my finger nails, knowing full well that part of my life will be gone forever and Monday I will be… gasp!! 50.
I should also mention that for the milestones of turning 30 and 40, I was with child. This time no. And I really will always miss that part of my life. I enjoyed having babies, and growing babies and delivering babies (Ok, maybe not that part so much). I visit blogs now where women are having babies and I still ache to be among them (and not so very long ago, I was!)
I guess I truly am an adult now. You would think being the mother of 7 would have made me feel all grown up, but actually it has been the decline and terminal illness of my mother that has done the trick. I remember mama as young and pretty, taking me to dance lessons and flute lessons and band practice and buying me clothes and having my 10th birthday party and all of that stuff. She was the one I always called for advice or just to talk to. She was mostly always on my side. And slowly but surely she is fading away and I will be the next generation up.
Mr. Pete has already gone through this. Both his mom and dad have passed. And although he is still one of the little brothers in his own family of brothers and sisters, in my family, the clan he married into, he has become the default patriarch! My grandfather and father are dead, my brother-in-law left – Mr. Pete has become the alpha male and readily accepted the position.
It’s long road from being someone’s little girl to the wife of the patriarch, and dare I say matriarch of my own little family. I kind of ignored it for years but 50 makes it impossible to ignore any longer. It’s a very grown up number. 50 denotes wisdom and experience and hopefully some level of “having it together.”
As a Catholic, I have spent the last 20 years, since I’ve had children, re-learning my faith and teaching it to the kids. It has been exciting and even fun. But what I haven’t done is develop that deep inner prayer life that my mother has. Which is not to say that I don’t pray, because I do, but it hasn’t been the deep, restful, restorative prayer that I am starting to yearn for. “Dear God let me get through another day!” when the laundry is piled up and the bills is the type of prayer I’m most familiar with!! and at 50 I’m hoping to shut up and be still and know God.
The other thing you realize at 50 is that with any luck, there might be 50 more years, but they will be challenging in ways I can’t imagine yet. And they will eventually end with death. I always tell Mr. Pete that our marriage will end with one of us dead and the other one heartbroken and sad. I’ve seen it. I know that to be true. But rather than focusing on the inevitable I want this birthday to remind me that everyday is a gift and a blessing and that I have to redouble my efforts to treat them like that. Because in 10 years, I’ll be 60… and looking back fondly at the era that was my 50s. And starting tomorrow, I want to enjoy, live and learn all that the 50s have in store for me.
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