In just a few short weeks, I will be 40. Forty. The big 4-0. Halfway to 80. Middle-aged. Old. It is bothering me on some levels. I’m trying to be optimistic, but I can’t lie. It’s bugging me. I remember when Oprah said that 40 was the new 20. Oprah was full of it.
I try to be careful about whining around just anyone. Not just anyone understands. Those who are over 40 tell me I’m still young. Those under 40 tell me that I’m only as old as I feel (which most days would make me even older…). And what I can’t always explain is that when you watch a parent die at age 44, forty is no longer middle age. I know that feeling isn’t reserved for me. I have other friends who also lost parents at early ages that struggled with nearing the same age themselves. It makes sense, I suppose. Our internal time-line is sort of skewed. Regardless of the reasons though, it’s bugging me.
Just recently, my wrinkles have become more defined. My middle-age belly has finally convinced me that I will never have those abs of steel I thought might be possible. When I look in the mirror, I no longer see a young woman. I see an adult. Argh.
It’s funny how the things everyone tells us when we’re young seem to go in one ear and out the other. We are told that with age comes wisdom. We are told that as we get older, we will realize what’s truly important. We think we aren’t listening, until we get older and remember hearing it – and figure out that it was all true.
I believe in eternal life. I believe that long after my earthly body wrinkles its last wrinkle, I will be in a much happier place. But I still love this life, as I think I’m supposed to. I want to experience many more years of learning and feeling and loving and laughing with the people around me. But the hurt & disappointment that comes along with it – I won’t miss so much.
I have finally, after nearly forty years, figured out that this world will always hold the potential to let me down. People I love will let me down. I will watch bad guys win and good guys lose. I will watch the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. I will loathe injustice, and I will fight to end it, only to watch it resurface somewhere else. And I will disappoint myself and others, over and over again.
Tonight I took a long walk, down the same road where I always take long walks. I had one of those “what’s the point of it all?” moments. What is the point of this life if it’s just a series of let downs? And then it hit me – that is exactly the point. This life is just a preparation for the best that’s yet to come. It’s the frame of reference. It’s the little tiny shrunken spoonful of ice cream sample at the ice cream parlor – just enough to make us want to taste more. Before each of the “this life let downs” there is usually a pretty good build up. A friendship is made. A relationship is built. A lesson is learned. Something is created. Someone is helped. There has to be something good in order for the let down to happen. But in the next life – the something good will be followed by….something better. And that will be followed by….something even better. And so it will go for eternity. The jumbo, 4 scoop sundae with whipped cream and a cherry on top.
Maybe…instead of thinking of 40 as getting closer to the end of this life, I should remember that I’m even closer to the next one.
Hppy late Birthday!