The new area I’ve moved to seems to have a lot of old people. I don’t think old people really lived in Bondi, or I was too busy looking at the hipsters that I didn’t notice them. I notice the older people here.
I said to Shane the other day, “I smile at the older people here, and they don’t smile back.” To prove my point I smiled at a man in a motorised scooter as we walked by and he just looked at me puzzled.
Shane shrugged his shoulders and we left it at that.
As I did a solo grocery shopping trip the other week I was surrounded by pensioners. Ironically it was around the tissue aisle that I started to get teary. I pondered life, aging and suddenly realised that I wouldn’t get to see Lacey as an old lady. I know it was an obvious thing, but something I’d never considered before. {Oh gosh, as I write this the water works are happening again}.
I want to know what she’ll look like. Will she put a purple rinse through her hair? Will she wear pretty dresses? Will she play bingo? Perhaps she’ll be riding around with jet-packs and living in outer space. Who knows? Hopefully I’ll live to be 120 so I see her in her 90s. Let’s hope for that.
Something happened when I turned 30. It was like a switch was turned and I changed. I left those angsty 20s behind but ventured into new territory. In my 20s I felt invincible, like nothing could get me. And now, I feel a little more like a realist.
I chatted with a 30-something friend over lunch and we got onto the topic of… well, life. I explained how I felt now I’m 30-something as well, and how I’ve realised how short life is. “I don’t mean in a morbid way. I’m not thinking we’re going to die tomorrow. I just realise life is short. Lacey is growing older quicker. We’ve got to kinda… embrace it.”
Today is the youngest we’ll ever be again.
So I did something wild and crazy over the past few days. I wore singlets and dresses without cardigans, in public. I know. DARING. But seriously if you knew me, you’d know I always cover up my arms. I just have thing about them. I bared my arms for all to see. Screw it, I thought, this might be the best my arms ever are, and really – who cares?
I’m living life on the edge. Perhaps this is what a midlife crisis is like? When is midlife anyway?
You won’t see me jumping out of planes, or trekking through deserts, but you will see me letting go, doing more, and leaving my comfort zone. Putting more life into my life. Life is short.
And I’ll keep smiling at those old people, even if they don’t smile back.
