Dear Mom: Aging Is A "B" And You're Doing It Beautifully

 

Dear Mom,

I thought through my entire life that you have never aged. To me, for some reason, you have always been 36 years old. I think this was the age you were when I remember really paying attention to what it meant to be a woman. Yes, even though it took me a while to show you I am attentive. I am your entire front row and your number one fan. Whether you know it or not, you have been and still are a great example of what it means to be a woman and a good human being.

Remember when I went to prom? I don’t know how old you really were, but to me, you were 36. Pre-prom, I was embarrassed that you wanted so many pictures. But your wise 36 years knew better and took them anyway, because you knew this was an important moment that you wanted to cling on to together for many years to come.

Then there was that time I graduated high school. You couldn’t possibly have been 36, but I remember you as such. Jeez, I couldn’t be bothered hanging out with someone so old. This was an accomplishment I wanted to celebrate with my friends. But you worked your ass off too, sacrificed and goodness knows what else to watch me walk at graduation. Your experience helped you turn your cheek with patience and you threw a party for me anyway. You were still proud and wanted to spend time celebrating an accomplishment that you too, were a large part of.

Sometime later, I went away for my first big-deal-grown up job. You were still 36. Somehow, that seemed more approachable, but I still wasn’t ready to take advice from someone who hadn’t been on an interview in…jeez, however long. You knew better and gave me your ‘life lessons’ anyway.

One time I got married, and I thought you were still 36. I was about to make a huge life decision and all I could think was “What does my mom think?” I went searching for the youthful, yet oh-so-wise 36 year old that I didn’t mean to ignore until my late 20-somethings.  You were there but you weren’t 36 anymore! Life had shown in your beautiful, human face. It was like I was discovering you for the first time, and as one of my favorite people. You didn’t look 36 like I had remembered, but you felt the same. You said the same stuff. This time I wanted to hear it. I craved your advice and wisdom. I wanted to hear all of the stories about when you got married, got your first job, graduated, went to prom, or even just stories about your own mom.  I just wanted to talk to my mom and the friend I didn’t even realize I had all along.

Then one time I got divorced. I wished you were 36 because then you’d have the energy to stay up all night and cry over several bottles of wine with me.  I’d even take a night full of your infamous “life lessons.”

Well, you aren’t 36, and that is OK! You are my mom and you are aging beautifully! I’m getting so close to 36 and I’m wishing I had spent more time watching you age so gracefully.

You do it with a sense of humor. “Aging ain’t for the faint of heart,” you’d giggle with your best friend over mutual, pesky aches and pains.

You do it with a sense of wonder. You like to get up and check it all out. You will stop at every garage sale, just to see, to touch, to learn and to explore. “I wish I had that kind of time,” I’d tell myself. Really, I envy your patience and ability to 'live-in-the-moment.'

You do it with curiosity. During a visit, you didn’t even hesitate to climb aboard a 4-wheeler and take a few laps around the yard. I’m pretty sure you squealed like a little kid and I’ve never laughed harder watching you have so much fun!

You age with courage. You speak your mind better than anyone I know.  You stick up for people that don’t (feel like they) have a voice.

You aren’t physically 36; I'm angry at myself because the years have flown by and I haven’t taken full advantage of that front row seat I have. Please know, I’m watching you and still learning what it means to be a woman and a good human.  I aspire to be just like you: a timeless, classic, beautiful soul.

Love you,

Mags

 

 

 

Rod Stewart "Forever Young"
I picked this song for a not-so-obvious reason, although it fits well for this subject matter. I remember my mother, sister and I would take so many road trips. My sister and I piled into the backseat of her gray Nissan Pulsar, feet dangling out the window because of how stinky they were after a long day of walking around. This song was played in heavy rotation on the radio and I remember watching mom in the mirror mouthing the words to the song. The hills rolled passed our speeding car and I just sat thinking about what this song was all about. Little did I realize this is all about parents trying to keep their kids young forever. But Mom, I want you to know, to me, you will remain "Forever Young."