solo mama entendre

It’s a lot scarier than I ever thought it would be to get older. I can’t see small print without glasses anymore, and my mind is definitely not as sharp as it used to be. I don’t remember names of songs or bands I’ve listened to for decades. I often wonder how these old men keep getting elected as president. I’m not trying to be a jerk, I know people are still brilliant when they are older, but it seems that the time it takes to process information and recall things from memory gets a little slower.

I spend a lot of time analyzing my skin in the mirror. I know it will never look better than it does at this moment. Working out hurts more, injuries take longer to heal. I’m more exhausted than ever before. I seriously have a different type of medical appointment almost every month as part of regular maintenance. I recently took my car in for an oil change and listened to the “advisor” in a shirt and tie at the fancy dealership I went drone on about service milestones at 48,000 miles, 60,000 miles, 90,000 miles and I thought about my own doctor appointments. How will I keep things straight between services for my body and my car? Do I schedule a colonoscopy at 50 years old or 48,000 miles? Is it time to get my brakes or my eyes checked?

Old age in this country seems frightening. If I live that long, I don’t want to be driving around when I’m 86, getting flipped off or cussed out when I get confused about when to make a turn (honestly, this is already happening), or running down to Walmart to pick up a prescription. I don’t want to be doing any of this even now at 50. By nature of the fact that I had my kids at age 39 and 40, most of my mom friends are in their 30s now. Sometimes when I’m talking with them, my mind drifts off to when I was their age. Busy traveling the world, finishing up my graduate degree, getting divorced, dating a few psychopaths, crying a lot, and finally thinking at age 38 that it might be nice to have a kid one day. It wasn’t necessarily the best time of my life and I don’t really miss that decade.

I have a precious few older female friends who have had colorful lives just like me and they are amazing, doing incredible things, and inspiring me every time I’m in their presence. They don’t talk about their physical and mental slowness or pains. They don’t focus their efforts on finding a companion due to some irrational fear of being alone. They no longer obsess about whether they are building a healthy and happy foundation for their kids or just screwing them up for life. They are just…free. I want that.