I am sitting here in a huge, sterile hotel outside of Chicago on the eve of my 50th birthday feeling just a little sorry for myself as I begin a four day board recertification course. Ok, it was my poor planning, amidst other things, that is mostly to blame for this slightly depressing scenario, but at least I won't have a lot of distractions....AND, my wonderful friend here in Chicago is strapping on her purple party shoes and taking me out on Friday to celebrate! So, I have a remarkable opportunity here to contemplate how I feel about turning 50 without many interruptions, as the sun goes down on this beautiful fall day. Guess what? I feel pretty good. I find that a bit remarkable, but true. Our son is thriving and blissfully happy at college (hopefully he is going to class..), so we are hard-pressed to be too sad. He even communicates occasionally and he will be home now and again. The girl left behind has taken to her third floor hideout, and we are being diligent parents and trying to put the spotlight on her a little more than she would like. What we find, as we begin to see her without her brother around, is an incredibly funny, intelligent, thoughtful young woman with a biting wit who makes us want to either fling her out the nearest window or howl with laughter. She is exhausting, but well worth the effort. Chip and I have found joy in our new patio and in each other as we all come out from under the big personality of our son and the constant presence of his many large friends. Chip is well and improving slowly but constantly from his back surgery, and I am feeling pretty good, managing the new oral drug regimen with just blisters on my feet on week 2 and a bit of foot pain--but somehow I feel more able to handle it, even if I can't walk too well for a short time. My waist line is certainly suffering a bit, but I don't seem to be. Maybe 50 is ok. Maybe I can believe the wonderful pastor of my fab new church when she emailed me and said that 50 is the biblical year of Jubilee when all debts are cancelled, the past is forgiven, and liberation lies ahead. Now how about that! Liberation! Maybe I should stop telling my husband that I want my own house... Bottom line here is that this stage seems to be ok. Maybe a few more aches and pains, but maybe a little more ability to take time to appreciate what's right in front of me--a devoted, adorable husband, a remarkable, infuriating, fascinating, hilarious 16 year old, a wonderful old nutcase of a dog who has been with me through all the thick and thin (at this point, it is a little hard to know if it was our thick or her thin), and a wonderful group of friends and family that keep us laughing. I have babbled on a bit too long tonight, as I have few responsibilities in this hotel, but how about a few poems. A dear friend sent me the first poem about time and aging, and the second wonderful poem about September light is from our new poet laureate. Check them out.
Cheers
In The Middle (Barbara Crooker)
of a life that's as complicated as everyone else's,
Struggling for balance, juggling time.
The mantle clock that was my grandfather's
Has stopped at 9:20; we haven't had time
To get it repaired. The brass pendulum is still,
The chimes don't ring. One day you look at the window,
Green summer, the next, and the leaves have already fallen,
And a grey sky lowers the horizon. Our children almost grown,
Our parents gone,it happened so fast. We must learn
Again now to love, between morning's quick coffee
And evening's slow return. Steam from a pot of soup rises,
Mixing with the yeasty smell of baking bread. Our bodies
Twine, and the big black dog pushes his great head between;
His tame is a metronome, 3/4 time. We'll never get there,
Time is always ahead of us, running down the beach, uging
Us on faster, faster, but sometimes we take off our watches,
Sometimes we lie in the hammock, caught between the mesh
Of rope and the net of stars, suspended, tangled up,
In love, running out of time.
Sky in September (WS Merwin)
In spite of the months of knowing
And the years
Autumn comes with astonishment
Light held up in a glass
The terrible news in a haze
Caught breath in the warm leaves
In spite of the gathered dust and the vast moon
The day comes with a color
Its words cannot touch
So it is when I see you
After the years when the ailanthus leaves
Drifted unnoticed
Down the gray wall
They have disappeared and nothing is missing
After their rocking and clinging
They have vanished with the thieves and shuffles
And the words of the dealers
Taking nothing
They have fallen like scales from the eyes
And at last we are hearer together
Light of autumn
Clear morning in the only time
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