Pollyanna is over 100, but Hayley Mills, who played Pollyanna is actually in her late 70s. Pollyanna and Hayley were significant influences in my early life. One, because I was always compared to a young Hayley Mills and two, because of my naïve and trusting nature. I also really loved the movie and when accusations like, “you’re such a Pollyanna” were directed at me, I was okay with it. Just as I am okay with turning sixty-five.
Fifteen years ago—and I can’t believe it’s been fifteen years—I wrote a lengthy essay about turning fifty. Turning fifty—and aging—is the theme of my first book and I spent a good, long time describing what my 50th birthday celebration was like. I loved it. I even loved turning fifty. At the time it felt pretty good; I had a good job, lived in a comfy home, my kids were doing okay and so was the rest of my family. Angelo threw a huge party for me—a surprise party—after the yummy and family-filled lunch he also arranged. Yep. Fifty was a piece of cake—pun totally intended.
Now I’m 65 and a whole lot has changed since that last milestone. (Sixty is a milestone too, but that particular one didn’t go so well . . . ) I was deeply reflective in the weeks leading into the date of my birth; primarily because as I looked around at my peers, they were all in very different places than I found myself. For one thing, they were retiring—or about to. Making plans to visit or live in places like France, Italy, Florida . . . an RV.
I find myself still looking for work, not moving to Italy, not spending the winter months in Florida but surprisingly taking better care of myself so I can be available to Annie and her family as we forge ahead in this minefield known as cancer. My life has completely changed in ways I couldn’t even have imagined and trying to imagine it now is fraught with stress and grief. In fact, there has been so much grief in my life I’m writing a book about it, instead of the humorous collection of essays I was calling “Sex After 60: An ABC Book for Seniors.”
I posted a selfie on Facebook the day before I turned 65. This is it:
Sometimes, on social media, I’ll see pictures people post of themselves and I’ll think, “So that’s what they think is a good picture?” I know—super judgey—but it makes me very careful of what I post about myself. But here I am—even with all the turns and challenges that, I swear, are way over my limit, but still keep coming, I like the way I look (because I certainly wouldn’t have posted a selfie if I didn’t!). I’m doing okay--with the extra weight that is stubbornly clinging to my waist and the wrinkles and the weird hair coloration (not all gray, not really blonde, sorta brown—what color is that??) and the wattle. I’m still standing.
My life has been shaped by many experiences; some I’ve created, some I stumbled into, and some that were forced upon me. I have quit jobs without having another one lined up, I divorced, stayed single, remarried. I have chosen what I hoped were high roads, but sometimes were just maybe safe roads.
And when I reflected on the years that brought me here, one of the things I realized is that there is one person in my life who I can totally depend on in any circumstance. It’s me—even when I feel like I’m screaming into the darkness (I’ve done that, too) I have always been able to bring myself back. So, I stand by the wrinkles, the weight, the relentless challenges and even the judginess.
I stand by me.
I needed this read today. I am also 65 and have reached this same conclusion. Some resolve was met with claw marks, but I too am still here and happy. It’s a great place to be. I highly recommend it.
Laura
www.laurakendallwriter.com
#Memoir #writingcommunity #indieauthor #thalidomidesurvivor #kdp
And I stand by you, my friend, and your brilliant insights and compassionate heart. Someday we’ll finally be neighbors in Italy! 😍