Here I am on the eve of turning fifty years old.
No need to pull out the Lawrence Welk reruns and Geritol yet.....
maybe I should say Brady Bunch and Swanson Frozen Dinner to align with my era.
But does my life make me look fifty?
Does it smell old? Has it seen better days? Does it look dated?
No.
It is current and geared up for adventure.
So I'll hand out a few gems of wisdom from these first fifty years of childhood.
I'll start with one that influences women and men.
Body image.
How about my obvious physical characteristic. Silver hair.
I started turning gray in my late twenties. When I was thirty three I was mostly gray and decided to "let it go" before it became a Disney sensation.
Yes kids, I was the undiscovered muse for Elsa.
As I settled into my graying and then silver hair I had to address the rest of the outward images that caused people to judge...or caused me to assume they judge. My freckles had long been a source of an impaired self image. Body shape...the hips don't lie.
Throw in some glasses to correct that legally blind eye sight.
I couldn't rely on the media or my mother to empower me to love...me.
I had to make that decision. It was and is a hard road filled with detours, people who have better transportation and potholes...bread, tall friends, and gelato to start.
But everyday I keep a gps with me and my eyes straight ahead.
I am a strong, healthy, beautiful and worthy of great love.
Dating in my forties...well I discovered many men were still looking for a body type.
An image. A brand label. Someone to make them look younger, sexier, desirable, wealthy.
I became selective about what I was attracted to...hands, work ethic, shoulder width, smiles accompanied with good teeth and a hearty laugh.
I also found that a real man had his own physical foibles and owned them. They acknowledged as we age...everything settles, grows, flops somewhere else.
Therefore love comes from a deeper place within us.
For ourselves and each other.
Let's move on.
The next sparkly gem is that ability to overcome obstacles in life.
Everything from teenagers to divorce to a family history of addictions to religion to the hospice care of dying parents to unemployment. I have taken it on.
At first I would allow the event to overwhelm my life. I would blame others.
When you blame others for your problems...they typically aren't there to fix it or save you.
Because it's not their concern.
They are onto the next best thing, or drama, in their life.
It was up to me to seek solutions. To forgive myself. To ask for help.
To get my hands dirty and do the work of cleaning out the mess of my life.
Do you know what comes with that hard work?
You unlock your own super hero.
That. Is empowering.
Yes, even asking for help can be empowering.
This next jewel goes hand in hand.
Once you are in your superhero cape?
Don't apologize for your strength. Don't make excuses for your abilities. Don't look back.
The last nugget of knowledge I can pass along from these first fifty years of childhood...
Those troubles.
Obstacles.
Finances.
People.
Worries.
Give them away.
The one constant in my life that my parents passed along was that there is a God greater than me and He loves me.
He loves my silver hair.
He loves my kids when they are reeking havoc on my mind and heart.
He loves my worries.
He loves the people that drive me batty.
Recently a young man with a huge heart for God said it this way.
Christ is standing there with open hands just waiting for you to put those concerns into his hands. When you do he will say "Thank you, I have been waiting for this."
Sometimes I have to be on the floor in tears with white knuckles grasping the problem.
I have been trying so long on my own that I can't imagine a life without that pain or heartache.
When we place our kids, our worries, our battles in His hands we can receive peace.
Grace.
I know this to be true.
I handed over Ed. I handed over Peanut, Bean, and Iam. I handed over my love life.
Without Gods hands all in my mess, like a child and finger paint, how could I have a Thanksgiving meal with Ed in Mr. Z's home?
Without His hands in my mess how could I sleep at night while I have had teenagers with a prefrontal cortex that isn't fully developed?
Without His hands in my mess how could I have been led to the man who is my needle in the ginormous haystack?
So dear friend, does this life make me look fifty?
Possibly. Certain days I feel all fifty years.
The majority of the time I'm ready to dance my next fifty out.
What I know? All those sayings that I love to share...
There is joy in the journey.
Everyday I choose.
All is well.
She took a deep breathe and let it go.
Even though she be but little, she is fierce.
They are all shadowed by this...
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