I turned 51 last weekend. It wasn't a big deal until I realized that I could no longer legitimately say I was in mid-life. I mean, women to tend to live longer than men and all, but my gene pool simply does not support reaching the age of 102.
I guess that means I am about as grown-up as I'm going to get. That's somewhat sobering, although I am kind of relishing taking on the role of crotchety, eccentric old bat.
This last chunk (third? fourth?) of my life is certainly not starting out as I had envisioned. Wrapping my head around being single for what may be the rest of my life is turning out to be quite a challenge. At this point I've been married for well over half my life and I (naively) assumed the pattern would continue unchanged. Fer chrissakes, the base of my ring finger is still the size it was when I was 19. I wonder if it will ever fill out, or if it's doomed to stay in its stunted state, like the bound feet of an old Chinese woman.
The other thing that happened this week that got me to a-pondering was that Mr. B's older, single sister, (we'll call her Sr. B) passed away from cancer a couple of days ago. I was not one of her favorite people (long, boring story there) but I am the only one resembling family nearby, so I am the one that was called. I sat with her in the hospital as she passed.
Even though she wasn't really conscious, I talked to her. I told her about the lunar eclipse on Monday, what my personal vision of the afterlife was like, and other random crap. I told her everything here would be taken care of so she could go when she was ready. I told her I knew I wasn't the one she would have chosen to be there, but it meant a lot to me to know that she was comfortable and safe in the hospital, rather than dying alone on her cold, hard kitchen floor surrounded by her four cats (which very nearly happened.) The whole scene was eerily familiar, as it was almost three months ago that I had done the exact same thing (well, except for that part about the cats and the kitchen floor) with Mr. B.
(Can you imagine getting that phone call? Even though she had 'banished' me a few weeks before Mr. B died, I would never have been able to forgive myself.)
Regardless of that shakes out going forward, I am grateful that I can put my 'angel of death' costume away before I shut the door on 2010. Two deathbeds in three months is plenty. Looking forward to finding a new hobby for 2011.
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You're a good woman, Liz Tee, and you've had a rough year. I do hope that the next one is much better.
ReplyDeleteAnd, if it makes you feel any better, according to your definition, you left middle age about 10 years ago. I'm right behind you, but I left middle age before you did.
You're welcome.
You have had such a rough year, Liz, and I am sending warm hugs. You did the right thing for Sister B and my wishes for you are that your 2011 is brighter than you can imagine.
ReplyDeleteThanks, guys.
ReplyDeleteAnd Frank, shut up. Give an old woman her illusions.
:)
New to your blog, Liz. You seem very compassionate, and I admire you for being there for sister B. No one wants to die alone. I hope 2011 brings you renewed joy and happiness.
ReplyDeleteI was only trying to help, showing you that "past middle age" isn't so bad!
ReplyDeleteYeah, it's just a label. But as an average-looking woman without the resources (or desire) to fight it, it is tough to really embrace the outer signs of aging gracefully.
ReplyDeleteMaybe it's time to get rid of all the mirrors. Or maybe I should quit pontificating and just hit the eggnog.
:)
Hey - as someone about to *leave* her fifties, I gotta say "embrace it, sister, 'cause there's nothin' else we can do about it!"
ReplyDeleteBeing a crotchety and occasionally crazy old coot has its appealing moments.
I was afraid, after I made that comment and it was too late to remove it, that it might come off wrong.
ReplyDeleteMy apologies.
I was sincere about everything else.
Just found your blog this morning, I must say your a strong woman, I went through what you had gone through with Mr. B back in 2008 with my fiance. I do hope 2011 is better for you and hope you have a great day!
ReplyDeleteLiz, happy belated birthday and Christmas. I know these last few months have been rocky, to say the least, but I hope the new year brings you some peace.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, you rock for helping Mr. B's sister through her last hours. I'm sure Mr. B. greeted his sis with a slap upside her head and "See? That Liz isn't so bad, now is she?!"
Liz, my thoughts, from 3000 miles, remain with you. I'm sure I don't need to remind you, but don't try and predict how things will turn out over the next years and decades. Who can tell? Amazing and strange things happen frequently.
ReplyDelete