Sincerely Sandy

The Autumn of Life

Here I sit wondering where the spring and summer of my life has gone. All the books and magazines say a woman my age is in the “autumn” of her life. Well, horse feathers! If I had of known spring and summer would fly by so fast I would have enjoyed it more. I would have spent more time smelling the roses as the saying goes and letting the summer sun shine without me fretting over whether the windows were clean enough. I would have sat in the grass and watched my children play and not worry if I were going to get the grass stain out of my white pants.

Who doesn’t have regrets? I can’t think of anyone right off hand. Most of my friends regret that they regret. It’s just something else to worry about. I am almost positive that during the spring and summer of our lives we did the very best we could, considering. The considerations being kids that fought, burped in public places, hated going to church and their main goal being to make their mom’s lunatics.

It amazes me to know that my adult children went through childhood, the teenage years and young adulthood without getting a nervous twitch. In the autumn of my life the twitch remains. I wonder if I am scarred for life. They seem to have done alright eating cold cereal for breakfast, but the media tells me that I should have sent them out the door with a Hot Pocket of some sort. They haven’t been in jail, they are not on drugs and they have great Christian values. That must have happened while I was still lying on the couch with a rag on my head.

Nevertheless, I am in the autumn of my life. Gravity has wrecked havoc on my face. (My grandchildren love to play with the turkey neck that somehow appeared under my chin.) I have no idea if I have gray hair, only my hair dresser knows for sure, I don’t wear heels any longer, I don’t jump rope, I don’t roller skate but mostly I miss my mind.

Just this past weekend my daughter would say, “Mom, you already told me that story”. How embarrassing for me! I didn’t know I had started repeating myself, well, actually I do know that I repeat myself because I can tell when the person I am talking with begins to have that glazed over eye look.

So here I am twenty something stuck in an autumn body. What can I do? There are no do-over’s with time. I can enjoy the autumn of my life by not repeating myself, by not repeating myself, I can enjoy the things I can’t do anymore, like sit 15 hours on a bleacher at the stadium, I can enjoy not having to cook for Cox’s army, I can enjoy the quietness of my evenings and not have to listen to Michael Jackson sing Thriller forty times a night. I can have a glass of tea that doesn’t have food floating in it. I can go the bathroom without someone banging on the door wondering what I am doing and when I plan to come out.

Yes, I am going to enjoy this new stage of my life. It’s here whether I want it to be or not, so I might as well enjoy the autumn and not fret about the winter of life that is only around the corner.

Sincerely,
Sandy