You’re Only Old Once

I remember my mom telling me to ENJOY being young. She said that youth is like a song that’s sung too quickly & that we’re old for a very long time if we allow ourselves to be. She looked at me, smiled & said, “Remember … old is just some poop in our heads.”

I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about & I never remembered to ask her about all that… until just now, on the eve of my birthday, & it’s too late because she’s gone. I wish I’d asked. But I don’t remember her ever seeming “old;” not until she became very ill & that illness robbed her of her youth & eventually her life. But until then, I believed she would remain forever young & she almost did.

As with many monumental occasions in our lives, we suddenly have a moment of clarity … that “Ah Ha” moment when we see clearly what someone was talking about & are at a loss to understand why we didn’t’ see it sooner. I think maybe that is part of the wisdom that comes with maturity &, although this isn’t’ one of those significant birthdays, I’m becoming even more mature tomorrow & I suddenly  know exactly what my mother was talking about.

I breezed through life without much concern until my 30^th. birthday. Shortly after the presents were opened & the cake was mostly crumbs in the cake box I found my first gray hair. And shortly after that I looked in the mirror … one of those “magnification 30X” mirrors … & came face-to-face with the beginnings of a crow’s foot. How could I have gotten old overnight?

By 40 I’d begun worrying about all the things I hadn’t accomplished in my life. I’d wanted to be a mom & an artist & an author & a journalist & I wasn’t any of those things, although I was, by then, a step mom, which filled that empty spot in my life. I wrote silly poems for my step son & drew cartoons to accompany them. Sometimes my poems turned serious & I called that self-expression. I had a rewarding career as an OR nurse so I was far from being a failure. But I hadn’t done some stuff that I was interested in doing and…I dreaded turning 50.  

But I did it anyway… that turning 50 thing.

I was ushered into that decade riding the crest of a powerful hot flash that turned into a very long “personal tropical moment” that defies definition.

Shortly after that I took an early retirement because I wanted time to enjoy my life while I was still young enough to & shortly after that I was diagnosed with breast cancer.

While going through almost a year of treatment I remembered what my mom had told me … we’re old for a very long time if we allow ourselves to be. Since my “time” had suddenly become one of the greatest uncertainties I’d had an occasion to face, I started making adjustments. I was determined that NOTHING, not age or cancer was going to rob me of the youth I’d seen fleeting since finding that first gray hair. In light of my chemo-induced baldness, gray hair seemed a moot point.

I put forth a very conscious effort to enjoy every day … to pursue the things I wanted to do in this life because I realized we aren’t promised second chances. Getting old seemed the least of my concerns, right up there on the list with gray hair & crow’s feet. Getting old was just some poop in my head.

Without hesitation I began a second career with a local cable television channel as a talk show host (me – the kid who dreaded giving oral book reports in school). I wrote a book & worked for 2 years to get it published. I included 6 original illustrations. Now I’m writing a BLOG, which is a form of journalism & self-expression – an unexplored avenue until now.

I’ve accomplished all those things I felt were lacking in my life when I turned 40 primarily because cancer made me realize that I’d been threatening to make myself old for a very long time (echoes of my mom’s warning). Our “time” is precious & I didn’t want to spend mine worrying about getting old. I found I simply didn’t have “time” for that.

So on the eve of this birthday I have finally realized exactly what my mom was talking about when she said we’re old a very long time if we allow ourselves to be. She knew that somewhere in the back of all our heads we just can’t help mentally marking off birthdays… doing a mental count-down to oblivion. She knew that worrying about it can bury our youth & make us old for many years when we’re still very young & just too dumb to realize it. She also knew that “young” is mostly a state of mind … how we approach life … how we enjoy it & what we make it. She said, in her wisdom, “Old is just some poop in our heads.”

Tomorrow night is New Year’s Eve … my birthday … & I’m celebrating with people I care about who make me happy because they are in my life. I won’t be just going through the motions because, after cancer, no one is happier to see another birthday on their calendar.

There’s something else my mom always told me from the very beginning when I started being aware of my birthdays. She told me that all the horns, bells & whistles that are such a big part of New Year’s Eve really had nothing to do with the New Year at all. She told me that all those bells & whistles were for ME. And you know what? I believe her … especially tonight after realizing that she has given me an absentee birthday gift … the gift of youth all over again.

We’re only old ONCE & tonight I realize, for me anyway, that’s a long, long way away. I believe my mom would be proud of my sudden burst of clarity.

Happy New Year! It’s my birthday & I’m planning to dance (if I can just get these arthritic knees moving ……..)