We live in a youth-oriented culture that values beauty and appearance over wisdom and experience. I still remember the day that I turned 30. I dressed in black from head to toe, lamenting the loss of the prime of my life. I was a part of the Woodstock Nation. Pete Townshend of The Who had warned me not to trust anyone over 30.
At 40, I was working in a women's center at Carleton University. Many of the members of my collective were in their twenties. I pretended to be 39 for three years in a row, so that these young women did not view me as their mother. We talked about racism, sexism, and ageism in broad general terms. But when it came down to the difference between my age and their age, and how old and unattractive that turning 40 made me feel, that topic was off limits.
When I turned 50, I prepared myself for a major identity crisis. Because I had been severely injured by a drunk driver at the age of 28, my hip joint collapsed on me when I was 47. I required a total hip replacement at the age of 50. The only thing worse than turning 50 was turning 50 and needing a hip replacement! I felt more geriatric than I had ever imagined possible.
Now that I'm 52, I've decided to come out of the closet. I've started telling everyone how old I am, interjecting the news into completely unrelated conversations. I'm still hung up about my age and trying to get over it. The funny thing about getting older is learning that all of the old cliches are true: youth is indeed wasted on the young, the time for love and forgiveness is always right now, and aging is more of a gift than a burden.
Think about it. We either get old or we die. I'll choose the former, thank you, even though I'm not very gracious about it.
In D'Amour Road, I explore the friendship between two women who are about to turn 40. One of them is reasonably comfortable with her age, but the other has major worries about it. She sees aging as a process that involves nothing but loss when in fact, there is much to be gained by getting older. We do get wiser. We do accomplish goals that we never thought were possible. We do learn from our mistakes. What would be ideal would be to take this 52-year-old mind and put it back inside a 25-year-old body, but I don't think I'm going to have that option anytime soon.
That's not to deny the fact that loss is an integral part of growing older. We do lose things with every passing decade. Oftentimes, I wish that my teenage nephews were still 4 and 6 years old! They were so sweet at those ages and they loved spending time with me. Now, I can't catch them on their cell phones or their e-mail. They're not following Aunt Sigrid's life anymore because they're off on their own trip. That pains me. It's hard to keep moving into the future when we have to leave certain things behind. And by definition, moving forward means that we need to forsake some things that have been important to us.
As time goes on, many people's lives become divided into "before" and "after" before I was raped, before I went bankrupt, before my son announced that he was gay. (None of those things actually happened to me. My before and after include "before my car accident" and "before my father died." Those two events shaped and defined my life.) Then there are also good things that happen to us -- I'm not implying that coming out as gay is a bad thing! My point was that it's a situation that might alarm certain parents and force them to look at their child completely differently.
In terms of good things, there is "before I got married, before I finished college, before my first baby." But whenever we move on to greener pastures, we must give up something, such as our independence, our free nights, or the ability to sleep straight through the evening without worrying about an infant in the next room. Gain and Lose -- it's the cycle of life.
I'm not a religious person. I'm not even spiritual. I'm more what Woody Allen called a "hopeful agnostic." But I really love that verse from Ecclesiastes that says that there is a time for everything. There's a time to be young and a time for middle-age. There is a time to grow old and to die, which is not necessarily a bad thing. It's like sitting through a long movie we may enjoy the show but we grow weary and want it to end. Not everyone is lucky to live long enough to see old age. Many people around the globe never even reach the age of five! Of course, that's a small consolation to someone who would rather be 25 than 52.
Sigrid Macdonald. Author of D'Amour Road.
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When I turned 50, I prepared myself for a major identity crisis. Because I had been severely injured by a drunk driver at the age of 28, my hip joint collapsed on me when I was 47. I required a total hip replacement at the age of 50. The only thing worse than turning 50 was turning 50 and needing a hip replacement! I felt more geriatric than I had ever imagined possible.
Now that I'm 52, I've decided to come out of the closet. I've started telling everyone how old I am, interjecting the news into completely unrelated conversations. I'm still hung up about my age and trying to get over it. The funny thing about getting older is learning that all of the old cliches are true: youth is indeed wasted on the young, the time for love and forgiveness is always right now, and aging is more of a gift than a burden.
Think about it. We either get old or we die. I'll choose the former, thank you, even though I'm not very gracious about it.
In D'Amour Road, I explore the friendship between two women who are about to turn 40. One of them is reasonably comfortable with her age, but the other has major worries about it. She sees aging as a process that involves nothing but loss when in fact, there is much to be gained by getting older. We do get wiser. We do accomplish goals that we never thought were possible. We do learn from our mistakes. What would be ideal would be to take this 52-year-old mind and put it back inside a 25-year-old body, but I don't think I'm going to have that option anytime soon.
That's not to deny the fact that loss is an integral part of growing older. We do lose things with every passing decade. Oftentimes, I wish that my teenage nephews were still 4 and 6 years old! They were so sweet at those ages and they loved spending time with me. Now, I can't catch them on their cell phones or their e-mail. They're not following Aunt Sigrid's life anymore because they're off on their own trip. That pains me. It's hard to keep moving into the future when we have to leave certain things behind. And by definition, moving forward means that we need to forsake some things that have been important to us.
As time goes on, many people's lives become divided into "before" and "after" before I was raped, before I went bankrupt, before my son announced that he was gay. (None of those things actually happened to me. My before and after include "before my car accident" and "before my father died." Those two events shaped and defined my life.) Then there are also good things that happen to us -- I'm not implying that coming out as gay is a bad thing! My point was that it's a situation that might alarm certain parents and force them to look at their child completely differently.
In terms of good things, there is "before I got married, before I finished college, before my first baby." But whenever we move on to greener pastures, we must give up something, such as our independence, our free nights, or the ability to sleep straight through the evening without worrying about an infant in the next room. Gain and Lose -- it's the cycle of life.
I'm not a religious person. I'm not even spiritual. I'm more what Woody Allen called a "hopeful agnostic." But I really love that verse from Ecclesiastes that says that there is a time for everything. There's a time to be young and a time for middle-age. There is a time to grow old and to die, which is not necessarily a bad thing. It's like sitting through a long movie we may enjoy the show but we grow weary and want it to end. Not everyone is lucky to live long enough to see old age. Many people around the globe never even reach the age of five! Of course, that's a small consolation to someone who would rather be 25 than 52.
Sigrid Macdonald. Author of D'Amour Road.
