You may know that last summer I turned 50 years old. I know! I don't look a day over 49. I credit all those yoga inversions. Anyway, I rather enjoyed being 50. It feels comfortable to say, "oh, I'm 50. Yes, yes, I know I don't look a day over 49, but it's true. I'm 50." Fifty seems mature in a wise way, while not yet long in the tooth. I can still wear skirts above my knee, although just, and heck, if I can do a headstand in the middle of the room at 50 then, dammit, I can wear my hair down past my shoulders (if only it would grow faster).
And now, as my next birthday creeps up on me, I've made a decision. I am going to stay 50 for a few more years. Apologies to my sisters, who will become first my same age, then older than me; but no need for them to worry, because around 53 or 54, I'll pop back to my rightful age. For now, I claim the right to do some things just for me, and one of them is to remain at this number of years for as long as I want. So on July 8 of this year, when you say Happy Birthday to me and I just smile serenely in response, you'll know that, while I do celebrate my day of birth, I'm not too concerned about the years.
I'll let you know when this conceit ends!
Great writing, and don't worry, remember:
ReplyDeleteNobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. ~Samuel Ullman
You are young!!