Well here it is
And here I am
A middle aged woman.
How did that happen? I am 45. I am older than my father was when I first realized his age and thought it so old. The first idea of age I had was 36. My dad was that age and I was 15. I was a teen and he was a man and I remember thinking how old it was, how he didn't know anything about me because he couldn't remember being as young as I.
Youth is nothing if not arrogant. And misinformed
I don't feel any differently than I did when I was younger.
More patient perhaps. And less. Or maybe tolerant is a better word.
Some days my spirit is young. And other times, it is ancient.
I fought this journey in many ways.
I remained young in my heart. I saw friends become... stayed. Mature. And I thought it was a bore.
But now, I find that is what I want. I'm ready for it.
I had that life of drugs sex and rock and roll.
I created my myth. I believed the hype.
Was the flash in the pan and the slow burning fire.
I have burned out. I have endured.
I am still here.
And now I accept it.
I fought it for so long. I have friends who aged before their time. Responsibly. Respectable. Some of them are middle aged busy bodies in their middle aged bodies, like those neighbors I had growing up, the kind who looked out their window with a scowl every time there was a noise on the street.
I don't want to be that, but I do have a crankiness about somethings as I find myself shaking my metaphoric fist at "kids today". I grumble about 20-somethings thinking they know everything. I have to catch myself when I start to utter phrases like "back in my day" or complain about the work ethic of this generation. I guess that is more evolution than even Darwin could have measured- eventually we all do become our parents.
Ah fuck.
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