OK. So I turn 40 today. Someone once said to never trust a woman who told you her real age because she is likely to tell you anything. That doesn't necessarily apply to me. I am just one of those "what you see is what you get" kind of women. Yeah, I wear my emotions on my sleeve, but that's ok. The few times I am hurt make up for the gratification that I am always honest and can lay my head on my pillow and actually sleep at night.
I have dreaded turning 40. I am officially entering the age-zone my parents were when I considered them "old". I am entering a new risk-zone for all kinds of diseases and illnesses-according to the AMA. I am not "young" anymore. Sigh.
But I feel young! Does that count for anything? If I ache a little more here and there it is my body betraying me because I swear, I still feel 20-something. It is a weird conflict.
I woke up this morning wondering how I would feel. As if during the night, the Youth Bunny came and stole the last little bit of youth I had managed to hang onto. I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. For a brief moment I saw my moms face in the reflection. I know-I know. The last thing we want to become is our parents but you don't know my mom. Beautiful! Man, she was beautiful. Her eyes twinkled and sparkled. She was the fountain of youth personified. Hey, wait a minute. I am remembering the way she was in her 60's. If she could look and be so youthful at 60, why am I sweating 40?
Don't look for black balloons around here today. Or next year. Or the next decade. It's ok. 40 is just a number. My Dad told me the other day that you become more reflectful and thoughtful about things in your 40's. Maybe my best writing will come this year!
