My Real Life

It’s been just a little more than 2 years since I’ve posted here, and if I’m honest, for a few years before that, my posts were few and far between.

But I’m still thinking like a writer. When things happen, I’m imagining how I would write it up in a blog post. I’m way too active on Facebook, which is partially how I get my writing out; in little drips and drabs; but let’s be honest…it’s not the same.

Two years ago, I was celebrating turning 48 and I was bemoaning the fact that 2019 was a sucky year for my family. Real Man had lost his job (he remained out of work for almost two years), I had kidney stones that had gotten stuck resulting in the need for a stent to be placed (super fun), and the list went on and on.

The gift of hindsight has me laughing at that post, because if I had only known what was coming three months later, I might not have complained as much.

However, that was then and this is now. And now, dare I say it, we are coming out of a global pandemic and we are okay. I enjoyed the lock down with Real Man and the monkeys and truly cherish the time we spent as a family during the spring of 2020. (I realize the privilege of that statement, as while some of us caught the virus in our house, most of us did not, and we all came out of it okay.)

A lot has happened between then and now, but here I stand at 50 and when I look around me, I find that my life is good.

Yeah, I’m mid-century. Sure, I’m the oldest person on my team by many years. Yes, my glasses prescription has changed drastically in just a year and a half and I just had my hearing checked because I can’t hear a damn thing.

But that’s okay. It’s evidence of life well-lived.

Oldest person on my team? Sure. Because I’ve been teaching for a total of 28 years in a career that I love. How many people get to say such a thing?

My eyes are going bad? Yup. It’s scary for me, but those eyes have read hundreds, if not thousands of books. They’ve looked into the eyes of those I’ve loved, witnessed amazing moments, and seen deeper than what the surface often showed.

Eh? What’s that you say? Speak up! I can’t hear you! Because I’ve rocked out to more wonderful music than I could have ever imagined. I’ve bathed in the sounds of my children’s laughter, heard the held back tears in the voice of a friend, and listened to the silence when I needed to hear my own inner voice.

I walk into the kitchen and forget why I’m there, but I remember every word to every song I loved in the 80’s. I tell colleagues to email me if there’s something they need from me because I’ll forget it the moment I walk away from them. But I will never forget how it felt the first time I held each of my babies. I don’t remember Real Man or ANY of the monkey’s cell phone numbers, but I remember the childhood phone numbers of each of my best friends. And so I buy stock in post-it notes to remember the “right now” things, but I smile at the long-ago memories that are never far from my heart.

Being 50 is okay. It’s better than okay. It’s good. It’s comfortable. It’s fun. It’s me. I don’t mince words. I don’t apologize for myself. I fight for those who need to be fought for. I read too much. I watch too much Netflix. I eat. I laugh loud. I cry hard. I tell people how I feel, because life is too short not to.

I have no idea what the rest of 50 has in store for me. There will undoubtedly be lows and there will definitely be highs. But I’m here for it. And, hopefully, I’m back to share it with all of you.