Tag Archives: Getting older

I Think I Still Could Have Been A Great Chapter

10 Nov

It hasn’t happened to me in such a long time, so I wasn’t sure how to take it. I mean I know how I took it, I took it poorly.  In addition to raiding my kids Halloween Candy stash, I emptied the freezer of  two Ben & Jerry’s pints.

It was a crisis or sorts.

I had lost it.

I lost a friend and it wasn’t because of death, health reasons, or an untimely demise. They’re living and breathing just fine, it’s me who was hyperventilating when I realized a couple of months ago that our friendship was over. It was a friendship that was rushed to the relationship ER and then never made it out.

There wasn’t an argument or heated discussion, and nobody had crossed any lines. It just slowly deteriorated. I saw it happening and tried to stop it. But with all my efforts I felt like that chic from He’s Just Not That Into You. The dork that hopelessly and endlessly tries to find the one and then thinks that every guy she’s been with is the one, only to realize that they’ve all been lame dudes that she’s made these excuses for because she was blinded.

 

He's Just Not That Into You

He’s Just Not That Into You

 

Yeah that was me. I was trying to hang on to a friendship that apparently meant more to me than them.

Now I realize that everyone is busy and as we get older there are all kinds of demands coming from work, family, and other friendships. I get it. We’re busy. But there are friends that I haven’t seen in months even years, and when they come into town and we get to talking, it’s like we never left campus and we picked up exactly where we left off. No awkward pauses or talks about the weather. We get down to laughter and real talk. The comfort zone is still there. The inside jokes are still there. The friendship is still there.

But this time around I realized that was gone. And I don’t know if guys really make a big deal out stuff like this, or if it’s just a chick thing, or if it’s just me but losing a friend kind of sucks all the way around. I was making all kinds of effort to maintain this friendship in a non-stalker-non Single White Female kind of way.

But then it dawned on me.

We had already broken up, I just wasn’t aware of it. I didn’t know the ins-and-outs of their lives anymore, I wasn’t part of their growth process. I wasn’t a chapter in their novel anymore, I just ended up being a really good short story. And I guess nothing is wrong with being a short story, great movies and TV shows are based on short stories.

But it’s something I didn’t expect. I think I had more to offer, I think I still could have been a great chapter.

As an adult I thought I was set and my circle of trust was in tact, but was reminded that some relationships don’t last and there’s nothing more that you could have done. Just got to be happy with the fact that you lived with integrity and you always did right by them.

 

 

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Daily Prompt Challenge Part II: The 57-Year-Old Guat

5 Nov

Dear 57-year-old Guat,

I don’t know what to tell you …

Thirty-seven wasn’t a great year, it could’ve been better. Mid-thirties … a lot of lessons. Too many. I should be a genius at your age. Genius. I’m hoping all the lessons are done and you’re enjoying whatever adventures are left on your bucket list.

At 57, I’m hoping there’s got to be something more. I remind you of the Sugarland lyrics that woke you up — that gave you a Thelma-and-Louise a-ha moment without driving off a Grand Canyon cliff.

“I ain’t settlin’, for just getting by.
I’ve had enough so-so, for the rest of my life
Tired of shooting too low, so raise the bar high
‘Just enough,’ ain’t enough this time
I ain’t settlin’ for anything less than everything”

I’m hoping you remembered the lyrics and kept them close. I’m hoping they continued to inspire you. I’m hoping that you lived by those rules. I know things don’t always turn out the way you planned — something I kept being reminded of in my 30s, but I’m hoping some things did work out for you.

I’m hoping you still have that picture of yourself — the one that reminds you of “you” and you look it every time you feel lost. I’m hoping that most of your gray hair and wrinkles are badges of honor — badges of adventure, excitement, and fun — and not so much of despair, worry, and sadness.

I hope you returned to Australia, but with your kids this time. It was the best trip of your life — a transformation. I hope they enjoyed it as much as you did. I hope you went bungy jumping again.

I hope you became that older gray-haired chick who still runs triathlons — the Ironman kind of older lady who whooshed by the 37 year-olds and made them want to run faster.

I hope you were a good parent — the kind you always thought you’d be. If not … you’re 57 … get on it. Let your kids read your old blog posts on Word Press, they’ll probably enjoy seeing what you were like when you were younger.

Some of the best lessons learned came from reading The Alchemist and Eat, Pray, Love. Reread them and refresh your memory.

You’re three years away from the big 6-0. Throw yourself a party. A big party. Invite family and friends. Indulge in food and enjoy the music, let your inner 37 year-old Guat hit the dance floor.

Enjoy the party. Enjoy your life. Keep your sense of humor. And always be kind.

Love,
Your Younger Self

Finding Side Effects, Then Finding Inspiration to Give Them The Finger

28 Jul

Inspiration. Yeah I was looking for it the other day and I found it.

These Don- Draper-Mad-Men type of Olympic commercials featuring promising gold medal athletes did it for me. You need inspiration when you hit the big 3-7 birthday. Because you are no longer at the mid-thirties mark. You’re in the late-thirties category … as in I’m in my late-thirties.

If you’re at the place, where you expected to be in life, there can be no side effects to this late thirties category. But if you’re not, there may be some side effects that constantly have you roaming the Dale-CarnegieTony-Robbins aisle at the book store.

Side Effects?

You find an old driver’s license in your wallet, a post college but pre-marriage license and the driver’s license picture with the hideous blue background looks better than you do now. You look at yourself in the mirror, and wonder what the hell?

You find a pair of Lucky jeans that you bought at Costco in the pre-baby era and now … one year post-baby in which you ran a Warrior Dash and TinMan Triathlon race you still can’t fit into those jeans. Costco Jeans! Pinche 37-year-old metabolism.

You realize that you’re now in need of something called Midol or Pamprin, and B12.

You need naps during the day, but can’t get them because you have two kids with a lot energy, so you purchase something called concealer to hide the under-eye circles that can’t seem to be concealed with anything other than sun glasses.

At 37 you’re supposed to be in your corner office, the one with a window, and an assistant or an intern helping you out. You’re supposed to have a business card. I do not have a business card. I do not have an office. I do not even have a cubicle.

But when I was at the book store I noticed something and realized it’s all good.  I may be 37, but I still have passion. I can still be a celebrated achiever. Not celebrated by the world, but celebrated by me — the Pamprin-Midol-B12 taker, non-jeans wearer, who buys concealer and doesn’t have a business card … yet.

 

Image via Quotable Cards