I wrote last week about ageing ungracefully. It was mostly about the physical side of it. Or at least the aesthetic side.
Of course I realise ageing is about far more than our physical selves. We often hear about those who gain new leases of life after middle age, or those who go on to achieve great things… struck by inspiration.
I was a late starter. I wasn’t really ready to think about relationships until I was in my mid 30s and – as I’ve mentioned before – I was in my early 40s before I tried to have children. Of course it didn’t happen… but it means (in many ways) I’m still a decade or two behind. Mentally. I mean, I seriously cannot imagine having adult children myself or even grandchildren and yet I’m conscious many my age might. And do.
I also talked (in last week’s post) about only being confronted by the fact I’m 51 when I look in the mirror; or when I see people my age talk about retirement and grandkids and stuff. I mean, surely grandparents are OLD!
Of course, my own grandparents seemed it. At the time.
My paternal grandmother died at 52. Before I was born. That gives me a year. What should I do with that precious year I could have remaining? And my mother’s parents both died in their 60s.
So, my outlook isn’t great.
Last week a few people commented on the fact that those of us ageing and moaning about grey hair and wrinkles are certainly luckier than many who don’t make it this far.
I’m increasingly aware, people who deserve far more than me and who are far worthier are no longer here. And yet I am. Ungratefully moaning about stuff I’ve ‘missed’ like never having been in love, not having a family; or worse still, a blotchy face and no job.
There are many who say wrinkles and scars are a sign we have lived. And survived.
Yet… I continue to hover in this no man’s land. Recognising that I need to be grateful but not actually appreciating what I have and worrying more about what I don’t have. Moaning about ageing when I should see it as a blessing.
I’m ageing ungratefully.
I spend most of my days wanting the time to pass. I’m wondering when the fun is supposed to start, so I urge time to fast-forward so I can get to the good bits. And yet, I know logically, these COULD (and should!) be the good bits. If I appreciated it all more. After all, who knows how much more there might be?
I know most of us wish we felt more gratitude for the good in our lives, but do you worry you don’t appreciate time as much as you should? Or just be happy to be here?
Linking up with Denyse Whelan for Life This Week and Leanne & Sue for the Mid-Life Share the Love linkup.