Any Shiny Thing - Life after 50
Midlife Fiction
You know how I came down on Jane Fonda for her recent plastic surgery? Maybe this will explain my vehemence. You know what they say, when you point the finger at someone, four fingers are aimed back at you. At least I know how it feels to be a sell-out, so Jane and I can say we’ve been in the same boat.
Thanks to Louise Cady-Fernandes at Lines of Beauty for inviting me to do a guest post. If you haven’t checked out her blog, and you’d like a boost of positivity, I recommend it.
Bill and Lynne January 2008
I’ve got to tell you the most amazing thing about this is that my husband wants to be involved. Every day he comes over for about half of my nine-hour “shift” and brings lunch. He arrives in time to give Ella her morning bottle, while I relax and have breakfast, check my email, etc. Then we play with her and trade off keeping her interested as she winds down for her nap. One day I rocked her to sleep before putting her to bed, and I could hear Bill snoring in the recliner downstairs. I had the greatest feeling of peace, that my family was safe and happy.
My only real challenge is physical. My 56-year-old body is adapting to getting down on the floor with her, walking around with her in my arms, and going up and down stairs in my kids’ two-story house. However, I feel less sore after a week of it than I did in the beginning, so maybe it’s disuse and not old age.
On Friday night, I joined the busy flow of commuters driving into a beautiful crimson Southern California sunset. I listened to jazz and remembered all those years commuting to and from work, and I had the biggest smile on my face. Bill and I jabbered over dinner about the baby, how smart she is and how cute, and all the techniques we’re developing as sitters. He said it makes him feel younger, being involved with her.
My weekend has taken on new richness. On Monday, which is a holiday, Bill and I are going to do a “nine-and-dine”: nine holes of golf followed by lunch at The Yard House in Temecula.
One of the great things about the human brain is that it adapts to whatever situation it’s in. Whether you’re working two jobs or none, you expand or contract to fill the time that’s available. As retirees, my friends and I would sometimes look at each other and say, how did we ever find time for a job? But in the past week I’ve been more productive with my time, because I’ve had less of it. I’ve managed to do a lot of writing and other business, because I’ve had to make sure I used Ella’s down-time to get stuff done (again, thanks to Bill).
We often ask ourselves “where does the time go?” In this past week, I have felt very closely aligned with time. As I fall asleep at night, I feel good about the time I spent with Ella and Bill, and my contribution to my kids’ well-being. I have a sense of satisfaction that my day was well spent. That’s worth the aches in my 56-year-old bones.
I never had the privilege of being a stay-at-home mom. Years ago, I went back to work when my son was four weeks old. Luckily, my mom offered to babysit him. Every morning, my husband dropped Danny off before work, and picked him up each night.
Well, now I’m the grandma, and I’m returning the favor. Tomorrow, I’ll report for duty at their house at 6:30 a.m. I’ll finish up at 3:30 p.m. This will cut into my writing and networking time quite significantly, don’t you think?
But I want to be mindful, and enjoy Ella’s company. I want to learn what makes her smile, and help her little brain catch fire! So I am cutting back on a lot of what normally fills my day. I am lucky that my husband is such a great team member – if not for his support (actually, I’d go farther: his encouragement), I couldn’t have agreed to do this.
I’m retired, but now I’m going back to the days when I only went to the gym in the evenings, or golf on the weekends. Adjustments will be made. I’ll still meet my goals as described in the last post, and we’ll all compare notes on March 31.
But I am SO excited! Ella is my priority, and everything else will get done somehow. I have a suspicion that my life is about to become more pure, more focused, and more beautiful.
I’ll keep you posted.
We middle-agers like to think we’ve changed, but what if you got proof that you haven’t?
I was going back through my boxes of journals recently, and it gave me nightmares. I may not have changed at all. Well, okay, I now believe you should aim for more than a 10:90 ratio of happiness-to-unhappiness in marriage, thanks to finally landing a great husband. (And it’s for life this time. In California they have a “three strikes” law.)
But I wrote about writing (30 years later, still not published), and about dieting. Most of it was about dieting. Now that I’ve reached goal and Lifetime status with Weight Watchers, I have to face the realization that my lack of style wasn’t because I was fat. It’s because I lack style. But anyway.
Do you keep a journal? Everybody says you should, but maybe here’s a reason not to.
I’m kidding, of course. Journals are valuable. By the time I die, I will have written enough of them to fill the back of a pickup truck. My son should be delighted.
Jean Sheldon, Author
Hello, readers. For Christmas, I would like to give you the gift of inspiration, as written in this guest blog by my friend Jean Sheldon.
When Lynne asked me to do a guest blog, I have to admit, impressed with my own accomplishments, I thought I would share how I started writing mysteries at the age of 53.
Then I reconsidered. Why? One reason was discovering books by authors Carol Grier, Veronica Esagui, and Devon St. Claire. Lynne’s invitation suddenly seemed less an opportunity to promote my own work and more a chance to spotlight the constant support and inspiration I see around me.
Grier and Esagui are both authors of memoirs. The stories of their struggles inspire awe and respect. In 1946, Carol took a train from Portland, Oregon to New York to meet her soon to be husband with $5 in her wallet. I recently took a train from Portland to Chicago armed with enough plastic in my wallet to cover three squares in the dining car and any crisis that might arise. In 1962, Veronica came to the United States from Portugal for an arranged marriage. No experience in my life can offer an analogy to that voyage. Recently, Dr. Esagui introduced me to Devon St. Claire’s writing. This came at a time when I found myself bored and disenchanted with fiction. I have read all three novels by St. Claire and was again delighted and inspired. Devon started writing fiction in 2005, when she was 80. Are you in your 50s and wondering if it’s too late to start a new project? Think again.
The other event that prompted my theme change was my 40th high school reunion. Except for one person, I hadn’t seen anyone from high school in over four decades. If we hadn’t been wearing badges with our school pictures, I wouldn’t have recognized a soul, nor would anyone have recognized me. But it was the energy of the gathering that truly moved me. I went to a Chicago public school, so our classes were large. The room was filled with a sense of celebration. We had survived. (Eighteen classmates hadn’t.) I listened to stories from cancer survivors, from people who had lost their spouse, and even children, and from people living with a variety of illnesses. Had we changed? You bet, but the essence that is our individuality shone in each of us. Everyone there had a unique story to tell, a story that could make the path a little easier for someone else. That, I realized, is the gift we have to give—the lessons of our journey might help others.
So inspired am I by the experiences, by women over 50 making a difference, and by blogs like ‘Any Shiny Thing’, I have decided to spotlight some of my own heroines. My goal is to create a site called ‘When Wise Women Speak’ and every month feature a woman over fifty whose very existence offers hope. There is no shortage! The first post will be January, 2011 and will begin by telling the stories of the three aforementioned women. For me, the only way I can see surviving our present mess is by sharing the stories of these inspiring individuals. People have endured much greater adversity than what we face and they are happy to share their hard earned lessons. When wise women speak, we need to listen.
Thanks, Jean, and we’ll look forward to your new blog about women who have inspired you. I’m grateful to you and to all my friends who gather here to share our experiences and learn from each other. I look forward to continuing our discussions in the new year. Merry Christmas, and love to all of you!
One of the greatest benefits of aging is the accumulation of wisdom.
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