“Women may be the one group that grows more radical with age.”―
On a Saturday night, in ‘the before times,’ pre-pandemic, I would likely have been out with friends, at dinner, movies, pot-lucks, music gatherings, drumming circles or concerts. Now, I am home, writing this article with the tv on in the background. An hour ago I was enjoying the PBS special featuring the iconic 88 year old performer Johnny Mathis and remembering my mother singing Stranger in Paradise. Next up was the 1990 rom com Pretty Woman with youthful leading actors Richard Gere and Julia Roberts in a transactional relationship turned romance. 24 years later, both are still hot, she at 56 and he at 74 and referred to in an article, as a ‘silver fox’.
In 1990, I was 32, married a few years, having launched a business as a magazine publisher, interviewing movers and shakers in the wellness, metaphysical and social justice realms. All of this was before becoming an adoptive parent, a caregiving spouse when my husband was diagnosed with Hep C which deteriorated to end stage liver disease. All this was before becoming a 40 year old widow with an 11-year-old son to raise as a single parent. All of this was before becoming a free lance journalist and ordained interfaith minister. All of this was before becoming an adult orphan when both of my parents passed.
All of this was before losing two dear friends; one to cancer and the other to a congenital cardiac condition. All of this was before a series of health challenges, including shingles, a heart attack, pneumonia, COVID and COPD. All of this was before becoming a mother-in-law when my son married the love of his life. All of this was before becoming the over the moon enamored grandmother of two.
This 65-year-old former busy buzzy, social butterfly has folded her wings for a bit. My day today consisted of time with my grandchildren and then a workout at the gym. I celebrated the new month with water ice at Rita’s. I took a pass on grocery shopping since I didn’t feel like getting drenched in the downpour that was visiting our area. Nothing particularly exciting. I came home and took a nap. I decided to tune into PBS and E to watch the aforementioned show and movie because I couldn’t bear to expose myself to another minute of the news with its stories of deceit and betrayal, of terrorism, war and poverty. I want to stay informed but I can honestly say that it is taking its toll on my mental and physical health.
My memory is shaky lately, and I need to narrate my way through my day, reminding myself to complete task after task. A thought passes through my mind and then is erased as if it was made by a marker on a white board. I hear a song on the radio and then test myself to recall the name of the song and the singer(s). I catch a podcast in the car and make a mental note to learn more about the interview subject. Sometimes, it gets whisked away before I pull into my driveway. I repeat the name over and over and when I get to a traffic light, type the name into my phone and Google it. When I am doing public speaking, I catch myself going into ‘channeling mode,’ riffing in improv fashion since memorizing a talk is daunting. Evidence how challenging it was to memorize my TEDx talk back in 2022 when I spent countless hours reciting, reviewing, recording, burning it into my brain, even rehearsing it in the shower and in my sleep. If I had to pull it up now, I would have to improvise.
I look in the mirror and see a combination of my mom and dad gazing back at me. Wrinkles around my eyes, thinner skin, curves, looser skin on my neck, greyer hair that is embellished with purple vegan hair dye are evidence of my age. I do my best to wear them well.
I just found this poem that reflects my own journey.
make peace
with all the women
you once were.
lay flowers
at their feet.
offer them incense
and honey
and forgiveness.
honor them
and give them
your silence.
listen.
bless them
and let them be.
for they are the bones
of the temple
you sit in now.
for they are
the rivers
of wisdom
leading you toward
the sea.
// i have been a thousand different women
—Emory Hall
One thing that has changed for the better, is that I have become more outspoken, less concerned about disapproval. Since I write about world changing events, I find myself needing to be bold. Do I receive pushback? Sometimes. Can I live with it? Yup. You couldn’t stop me if you tried, since sharing these ideas feels vital to our existence on the planet. I follow in the footsteps of those who were once upon a time, my age, and still keep on keepin’ on. Yes, Gloria, I have indeed become more radical with age.
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This Post is republished on Medium.
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Photo credit: Unsplash