Tuesday, September 26, 2017

COUNTDOWN TO 50 - Turning 40

Turning 40 felt different than turning 30, and not just because I was older. Technically speaking, I never feel old; I’m older each day of my life, so whatever I feel different is new.

I love this looking back. I’ve almost summed up my thirties for myself, and now I’m thinking about my forties. At 40, I would have said that my thirties were the best ages, but I find myself on the edge of 50 saying the same thing about my forties. I find that unusual because during this past decade I’ve had more negative upheavals - or, rather, changes that were not of my preference – than I had in my thirties, and some of them still hurt even now. Realizing that I enjoyed my forties more despite the bigger traumas says a number of things to me about who I am – things that I am happy to learn about myself in my general outlook and … overall acceptance? (I’ll put all that into words later).

I wrote this next piece minutes into October 2, 2007. I remember thinking how clever I was when I was done!

***

“She took a shower that night, knowing it would be the last time like this. It was strange to think that in a few short hours things would be different. After her shower she decided to blow dry her hair. This was a luxury; with early work hours and children that have to be readied in the morning she would usually let her hair air-dry overnight to save time. But tonight was different; this was to be the last time like this. She stared hard at herself in the mirror, looking to memorize every feature as it was. When she was done with her hair she allowed herself a few moments to admire the end result before brushing her teeth, taking extra time and brushing more carefully, after all (as the thought kept going through her head) this would be the last time like this.

She checked on the kids, who were still sleeping soundly, unaware of the Big Change heading their mother's way. Made sure their clothes were ready for the next day. It seemed strange to her, going through the same motions that she had every night for the past decade as if nothing was different, or nothing was going to be different. But it will be different, she thought.

She looked at the clock. 11:39. Twenty-one minutes left. What else could she do for the last time? She went to the computer and played a couple of games of solitaire. 11:47. She turned off the coffee maker, locked all the doors, turned off all the lights. 11:51. It looked like it was going to happen no matter what. Accepting that there was nothing she could do to stop it, she sat down in front of the clock and waited for it. 11:55...11:56...11:57...11:58...11:59...here it comes, she thought, taking a deep breath.

And then it happened; 12:00 midnight, and...

Nothing.

She waited an extra minute. 12:01. Still nothing. Another minute. 12:02. Again, nothing. She walked back into the bathroom, studying her face in the mirror, looking to see that she still recognized herself. She smiled, feeling a little foolish, but feeling better now that the worst was over.
She went to bed, comforted by the sameness of everything around her, the usual noises inside and outside, the familiar feel of her sheets. As she drifted off to sleep her last thought kept repeating itself through her head.


Funny. I don't feel 40...”

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