Destiny Calls

The phone rang. The caller told me she’d forgotten who she was. She felt that she hadn’t been her true self in such a long time that she’d completely lost track of who that was.

She woke up, old, one day only to discover the things she thought were true, were not. She knew she wouldn’t get a second chance and it scared her.

There are harmless little fictions we all subscribe to in order to make life more cinematic. I often think my life is more interesting than it is, filled with hair raising adventures and ill-fated interludes. I am well aware that I’m a matron, past middle age, with wrinkles that are etched at the corners of my mouth from laughing all the time at how funny I am.

I’ve noticed my women friends are of one frame of mind or the other. There are those who are pleasantly surprised to be alive still and don’t mind aging, too much, and those who refuse to look in a mirror and lament the loss of who they were when they were young.

I miss the young me, not because I was any great beauty, but because I was unencumbered and no one was the boss of me. If I didn’t like the way things were going, I packed it all up and took it on the road- that’s right, all three bags off on a new adventure with a fresh start. My brother used to call me the littlest hobo on account of my unimposing stature, just nine inches shy of 6 feet, and proclivity for relocation.

Some of my friends don’t see the value of their geriatric destiny. They spend lots of dollars chasing something that isn’t coming back, ever. They remember who they were but they’re afraid of who they’ll be. I’m a little nervous about who I’ll be but I’ve been nervous with every change or new era in my life. I know what that’s like.

I have been noticing little old ladies for quite a long while. It’s like window shopping for a new me. If I have a cane, it’s going to be sparkly like a magic wand. If I have a wheel chair it has to have a horn (ooga, ooga) and a woven basket. I’m already wearing sensible shoes. If I lose my hair (I hope I don’t) I’m wearing turbans. I swore I’d never wear pants without a zipper but you know I do.

My mother taught me a lot. When she called me that day she taught me, one more time, not to be afraid of my future.

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About elroyjones

Married, no children, responsibly self-directed, living happily.
This entry was posted in Human Condition and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

20 Responses to Destiny Calls

  1. Alex Jones says:

    We are always in a state of becoming, Egotism is a need for the approval of others. Those that are always in need of approval seeking will ever be fighting the ravages of the inevitable that eliminates youthful looks. They fail to appreciate there is nobility and other positive outcomes in old age.

  2. This is inspiring. People fight their age. Americans are the worst. We mess up our health trying to look more healthy than we really are. You can put spackle in the cracks, but if the foundation is rotting, you aren’t fooling anyone but yourself… I don’t mean you, of course… you sound like you are doing it right. But this whole thing about getting lyposuction instead of just eating better or exercising… what is up with that?
    Oh, and I just did a post about fog… and I was going to do mostly pictures… and then I remembered that you like my writing… so I did some… just for you…

  3. Being of the hairless, sensible shoe persuasion, I loved your take on aging. I want an ooga-ooga to go along with my ear trumpet.

  4. Good writing. Great attitude. Thank you.

  5. John says:

    Here’s to growing old! I can’t say that I’m bugged by the idea of aging — it’s all part of the process, and, other than resorting to cosmetic remedies, which leave most people looking like some sort of alien, there’s not much we can do. It seems to me that aging is much more a state of mind, than it is physical. Yes, your body ages, and your mind ages as well… but, it’s your attitude about it all that makes the difference. I might just start painting my toenails when I turn 65, just for the hell of it. 🙂

  6. I must have read this a hundred times, trying to decide what to decide. When I finally came over to say something wise and knowing I drew a blank. Ooga Ooga.

  7. Peggy says:

    This subject has been on my mind this week. Usually, I’m really, really okay with where we are (now I am but, as you know, not so much a year ago). But, I had a little set back on Tuesday night. Here’s what happened: when I was away yogaing in the Adirondacks over the weekend, I learned to hula hoop again. Oh, the joy of it! I forgot how much fun it was and I found that I was a natural at it. One of the only things that I felt that way about. So, when I got back to work on Monday, I was regaling those around me about the joys of hooping. My younger male coworker friend with whom I once had a semi-romantic relationship with (that was another blog) said how “hot” hooping was and sent me this youtube video to illustrate: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqi1MM6ttfc&feature=player_embedded
    Well, I agree with him. She’s pretty hot and like him, I “could watch it all day” but for different reasons (mostly). It didn’t kick in about how it really affected me until I was sipping (regularly) gin and tonics that evening. I started to really bemoan my loss of youth because, damnit!, that was us, that was who we were, NOT THAT LONG AGO! We were the youngsters running around swiveling our hips to music and having a ball. We can’t get it back and as you have said, O&D, “our time isn’t over yet!” Oh, I really got into it. Of course, the next morning when I woke up, I couldn’t get that pitiful outrage and sadness back because, well, it was the next morning and, on the whole, I don’t really give a shit. Note to self: don’t watch little girls hooping and then drink gin & tonics and think about lost youth. Dear God.

    • elroyjones says:

      I just LOVE YOU!!! Our youth is not lost, it’s right where we left it because we were done with it, moved on to the next thing. You were always a good hula hooper; me not so much, inhibited and uptight with absolutely zero grace.

      • Peggy says:

        Yes, yes, I know we were done with it, but you know, after a few g&ts under the wrong circumstances, my mind wanders. Only once in a very great while. As I was peddling my blue bike to work this morning listening to the Who singing “Going Mobile” and singing along as traffic zipped by (with NO helmet on, thank you very much), I remembered just how good life is. Who says youth is behind us? HA!

  8. gkinnard says:

    DAMN! I take a couple of days off and one of my favorite folks has gotten old on me! Stop that or we’re going to have to start an IV!

    Middle age is m-i-d-d-l-e, not d-e-a-d! Keep smiling: even if you can’t remember what you’re smiling for!

    • elroyjones says:

      I don’t mind getting older but one of my younger family members is considering a face lift. That’s fine I guess but then one’s face does not match one’s body…

  9. You crack me up.

    We were looking at the paper today for movie show times and I commented on how expensive it is to sit in front of a screen these days. “When you’re 60, you’ll get the senior discount.” Sixty? I thought we were seniors at 55! Now I have to wait all those years? When do I get the discount at McDonald’s? Yeesh.

    • elroyjones says:

      You crack me up as much! I’m looking forward to some respect for the wisdom of my years to offset the unfortunate condition of my physical self… .

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