Thursday, September 24, 2009

Talk Thursday: Milestones and Mortality

The older I get, the more what is ahead, what’s behind, and who I am pray on my thoughts. What have I done with my life? Am I what I thought I’d become? What my parents had hoped?

“Holy Moly,” I reply (I’m trying to cut down on the 25 cent words) “I’m only half way through my [projected] life.” Okay, just over half, but who is counting? As I say often, don’t minimize.

When my father died, I didn’t count my days, I counted the days and the quality of those days we had together. My BABY sister just turned the big FIVE OH! I celebrated with her, not mourned the fact that I’m three and a half years older than her (but, who’s counting?) I look ahead to the days, joys, and events we will spend together. I bemoan the fact she’s already in Vegas and I won’t get there until Saturday. When my daughter had a baby boy (eight years ago) I didn’t bemoan the fact that I suddenly was a grand mother, oh no, I embraced it. Once upon a time a “Lady” didn’t tell her age. Well honey I am wont to say, “I worked damn hard for each one of those years and I’m owning them.”

Am I who I expected I’d become? I’m fairly certain I’m not accomplished nor renowned. I am neither a dancer, a singer nor a marine biologist and I’m not a candlestick maker if you’re wondering. But I love my family, I love my life, I love my garden, I love my job, and I love myself. Oh and my dog loves me. I mean really, with that and some stale peeps what more could you want out of life?

Am I what my parents had hoped? Hmmm, well I did graduate from high school, married (several times – but who’s counting?) raised a delightfully headstrong intelligent daughter, I am responsible (at least in their eyes,) I own my own home, hold down a job, and have some earned respect. They seem to like me just fine.

The thing is what I once set as the benchmarks of my life changed, evolved, became based upon my reality not gossamer dreams. For the first half of my life - I thinking I’m doing pretty good. I could have mastered a few more basics, lent my hand a few more times, but I am still learning, still growing, and I still have a lot more of myself to give.

This weekend I’m going to Las Vegas for a reunion. I am going to go see people I grew up with, whom I’ve not seen in close to forty years. I am joyously giddy. My nephew, my sister and I are hoping to mark the occasion with tattoos (Arnie suggested stars, maybe a swirl of stars behind my ear?) Ducky and Pinecone’s hubby (who I’ve just come to realize I’ve no nick name for – bummer dude) are almost on board too. Pictures to come. Many of the “kids” I grew up with became successful and accomplished in their own rights and fields. But in the long run they are just like me, a kid who grew up in a house just down the street, a part of a combined history, and nothing more.



Psamanthe said...

Ok- My mom might not just off the cuff admit this, but she's crazy. Every year, on my birthday, she calls me. I answer and am rewarded with her singing "Put another candle on the birthday cake" -apparently a song from some show she watched as a kid.

Well, when my 30th birthday came, I was less than thrilled. Mom calls, and I began seriously crying. I felt old. The way I looked at it is that 30 is halfway to 60 which is over halfway to death. (I'm not usually such a pessimist.. though, my glass maybe half full... it could be fuller!)So I'm bawling. Mom's singing. And yes, she finished the whole damned song and I listened even though I wanted to hang up. I think she thought at first I was laughing, then realized I wasn't and hoped if she kept on singing I might start.
So she finishes singing... "Ohhh Psam, what's wrong?"
**Sniffle, Sniffle, snort**
"Mom, I'm old. I'm fat. I'm single. I'm struggling. I hate my life. I had so much more planned. Blah, blah, blah.."

"Ohhh Psam. It's ok. 30 was great. 40 was better, and I can't wait to be 50" ....................

I thought, "This doesn't cheer me up you crazy bitch!"

I think it's drugs.... That's the only way you can be that happy and ok with getting older.

Changing subjects.... stars behind the ear??? are you shitting me? Do you remember flipping out when I got the tat on my forearm? "You'll never get a job with that!!" Remember, now your going to go like a gangsta cholo and get a neck tat?

*** remember the gift I never got for my 18th b-day that not getting it led to the retarded monkey on my ankle??? I'm not going to go to Costa Rica this year, so ummmm at tat would be a good Xmas present.

Love ya,

Psamanthe said...

P.S. I love my mom and her crazy singing and would miss it horribly if it ever stopped. It was just a thing in the moment. And if you wanna be a cholita, I support you. I'm just shocked.... Next time I get pierced, you wanna get one too? I've been thinging about getting my nips done.


sideon said...

I'm resigned to the fact that I'm either perpetually behind on weekly topics or that I am whimsical and go at my own pace. Or both.

I admire that you stay so consistent. I wish I knew what that was like.


You've got me thinking with this post and topic, which is a dangerous thing.

Maya said...

Have fun and take lots of night shots!

foundinidaho said...

Psam should have a blog, she's hilarious. Seriously.

I hope you had fun in Vegas. One of my favorite places, oddly enough. I know it's superficial and shallow but it refreshes me to see that and then go back to the real world.

Oh, and several times is Elizabeth Taylor, my dear. I don't think you're close to that, are you?

Psamanthe said...

Fii - I recently started one.

Steven said...

A nice reminiscence of what you have become. Get a tattoo of your avatar. ;-) I love those eyes.
I hope you had a blast!

Cele said...

Psam - I once read "Craziness is inherited from your children." Yes it was a bumper sticker, get over it. Oh, and it's a clown damn-it.

Sid - don't sweat the blogging, write what comes to you, not what you make come to you.

Maya - I tried to take some night pictures, hmmm a few of the strip turned out okay on my digital, I get my film back Monday.

Fii - I enjoyed Vegas, but I could have done with out the sinus infection (head cold - WTFarve it was.) Ducky already is planning his next trip there.

Steven - sadly by the time we made Vegas everyone was broke, so I don't have a tattoo to show for the experience. Now I'm really wanting one. Crap I'll have to take Psam to get that one that she wanted way back when. And the psycho Monkey / Clown isn't my fault. She's impatient.

Psamanthe said...

IMPATIENT??? Woman! I remember coming to you at the age of 14.

"Mom, I want my nose peirced, and a tattoo."

You said pretty much over my dead body and when you're 18, I'll get you a tattoo. I waited.. on my 18th birthday I went and got my nose done. WITH A GUN, in the back of a beauty salon, after hours, cuz Florence doesn't have a peircing shop. I waited for years.

I got the tat from a liar retard, 6 months later. I waited 4 and a half years.

Now it's 15 years later and I still don't have it.