When I’m 64

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You know the Beatles’ song…..”Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m sixty-four?”  It’s catchy, right? The melody is relentless in my head.  So I thought, hmm….when I’m sixty-four? When I’m 64!! Shit, that isn’t so far away really.  I started to do the math, as I always do.  My, now 10 month old, little O will be 19 years old.  In college most likely.  A young man, starting his journey to adulthood.  My husband will be a mere 52.  A man in his prime.  And I will be…..a year away from retirement…a fledgling member of the AARP.  Oh God.  There is that pit in my stomach.  The reality of being an older Mom hits me every once in a while.  Hits me hard.  It hits extra hard when your husband is 11 years your junior, let me tell ya.  Bless him, he always says, “I just don’t think about age, babe.”  Well thank God for that.  I guess if he did, we wouldn’t be together.  Ha, I remember an older man I dated (11 years my senior) who actually told me if I was any older, we couldn’t be together.  Lol.  The audacity of the old guy! Bet he’s making some lucky girl very happy! (Insert sarcasm liberally).

It’s not like I think about it everyday.  I truly don’t.  I don’t really have time to.  I guess in a way, having a baby later in life keeps you younger for a bit longer.  It’s just those “every once in a while” times…Randomly catching myself in a mirror and wondering “who is that old lady?”  Or the occasional comment from the thoughtless person.  When I was pregnant, the girl who used to cut my hair when I lived in Florida, made a comment about how her daughter (who was 7) was so happy she had a young mom and not a mom who people thought was a grandmother.  She then added that her daughter had a friend who’s mom was old, “like 50!!”  It was clear she had no idea how old I was.   I then told her I would be 52 when O turns 7…. She felt like an idiot.  I’m kinda glad she did.  Because you really DON’T think of it til some young ditz reminds you.  And then you wonder, does every younger person think this way? When I show up at a PTA meeting, will the other Moms look at me the way teenagers look at their parents? Will their children ask me if I am O’s grandmother? At O’s graduation will people wonder if I am my husband’s mother? Ok, that might be pushing it a little.  But,  if that’s not incentive for Botox, I don’t know what is! Unfortunately, injecting botulism into my face is grounds for divorce according to my beloved.  But when I’m 64 will he have wished I had?

I could make myself crazy over it.  (Crazier than I already am).  But what’s the point? Thankfully I am in a marriage where aesthetics are the mere icing on the cake of things that truly matter.  There is no antidote for aging.  And there is no turning back time.  So there remains only one option for the older Mom like me.  Grace.  I can age with grace.  I can be the wise Mom that other women look to.  I can be an example of how to age, but not necessarily grow old. It’s funny (ironic, not ha ha), but my inside self really has no age.  I suppose I should just keep doing what I’ve always done…just more elegantly…and maybe with a fabulous hat?  Again, I go too far.

Now I didn’t enter into this motherhood thing as gracefully as I would have liked, but this aging thing is a slower process.  I have a little time to get it right, hopefully.  I’d like to raise O not to be an ageist.  I’d like him to value a person based on more than a pretty face and a hot body….I can be the example of how it all eventually goes south…lol.  But seriously, we get so much more out of life when we look beyond obvious beauty.  As I think of it, I don’t think I’d trade this older Mom thing.  Because I know more now. Valuable things I can pass on to my little guy.  Personally speaking, I honestly think it makes me a better mom.  And when I’m 64,  I think it still will.

Until next time, keep up the good fight (and keep moisturizing! Lol.) And remember, behind every great kid, is a mom who is sure she is messing it up.  🙂