Thursday, April 1, 2010

On Turning Forty-One

There's no gentle way to put this, so I'm just gonna say it right out loud.

I'm forty-one years old now.

Forty-one years.

Oh my gosh, I can't stop staring at those words. Forty-one years old.

Forty-one.

Years.

Old.

I was talking to the receptionist at the dentist's office the other day, and she was telling me a funny story about how she left her purse at home, even after she'd put it right by the front door just so she wouldn't forget it, right? And she says, "I'm just so forgetful! Can you imagine how bad I'll be when I get to be..." And there, she stopped awkwardly, her cheeks turning bright red as I finished her sentence.

"...as old as me?" I asked politely.

But I'm not worried about it. No, not at all. Not me.

When I got my haircut two weeks ago, the hairdresser asked me if I'd like to try wearing my part on the side because "...it might help you look more...umm...youthful."

Nope, not worried one bit.

Because looking old, acting old and being old are very separate things. And what really matters, when you come right down to it? Does it bother me that girls in their twenties see me as one of the "older" women? Not at all. Because, Lord willing, it means I'm working my way towards this: "Then they (older women) can train the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God." Titus 2:4-5

All these years I've felt like every other wife and mother in the world knew the secrets and tricks on how to do it all (and there are plenty of days when I still do.) But when I stop trying to reach for some false illusion of being and doing it all, I have to admit that I really do have my act together a bit better than I give myself credit for. I know more now than I did five years ago, way more than ten years ago, and...well, I was an idiot twenty years ago. (Don't scoff, it's true. I couldn't even fix spaghetti properly.) (And that's pretty sad for an Italian.) So why should I feel bad about reaching a point where I can start sharing that wisdom with the next generation?

"Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life." Proverbs 16:31

Haven't gotten the gray hair yet, but I'll embrace it when it comes.

6 comments:

Thia said...

My problem is when people ask how old I am, I have to stop and think. I kind of stopped keeping track after 25. Now I am...wait...let me do the math....31. lol. But it sounds so stupid when I'm doing business and they want to verify my age and I have to stop and think...

~Niki~ said...

i feel the same way.........
hugs!

MamaJoss said...

Oh you are doing it all RIGHT Mama! Happy Birhtday to you and enjoy...you've got so much good around you for sure :) xo -- I live by "Quality not Quantity" ;)

Rebecca said...

Such a great post! Embrace it all!

punkinmama said...

41 is NOT old! And I'm not just saying that because I'll be 41 in 5 years!

Happy Birthday (again)! So glad you're embracing it! Age IS just a number afterall!

Marye said...

ahem.... 50 on 4/21.... just sayin.

and I did embrace gray hair for a long time... now I am embracing highlights and lowlights from Tony and Guy. Also just sayin...

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