theyearsafter50

I was talking with a friend today who recounted a situation in my life that just seemed so incredibly f***ed up. It was a long time ago and she suggested that I had handled it in a way she never could have. I was not in agreement.

We tend to accept these comments when people say we handled a difficult situation well, and we move on. They don’t dig in and we don’t share. But the truth is (if you’re like me) we really don’t handle these situations well. We often suffer in silence. We cry in our bed. We put smiles on our faces that are completely lies. Nope, we don’t handle it. We survive it. We have no choice.

I know someone who received information recently about nearing the end of her life on earth. I asked her how she was handling it. She asked me what information I wanted from her. I smiled and said – the brutal truth.

She said she cries herself to sleep. She’s sad that she’s nearing the time to say good bye to her kids and family and friends. She’s still in shock. “How am I going to leave the dog? He lives for me.” Fuuuuuuck. (this one deserves full spelling).

Then I asked a better question … “What are you enjoying right now?” A smile came across her face and she recounted all the fun things she’s been doing and has planned. She is living her life in a way I’m not sure I ever have!

Look, we are all going through shit but we are really good at putting on a happy face. We fear transparancy—but that’s the best part of us. Our vulnerability. The idea that it’s not perfect. That life is wholy imperfect.

When I hear someone say “Oh my kid was so easy to raise,” or “They were just the perfect kid all along …” I just hear birds chirping, not actual words. No kid, no situation, no life is perfect or easy. Let’s be ok admitting that. No one should suffer in silence.

I just want to say to all my friends out there, I want to hear what’s not going well. And, I’ll also listen to what is going well. I want to hear the shit of life. I’ll listen not matter how reasonable or unreasonable you think it might be. I won’t judge. I’m just here. Even if we’ve not talked in years. I’m still just here and I know you’d do the same for me. That’s what makes our friendships the most important relationships in our lives. Reach out if you need an ear or a walk and an ear. 🙂

XOXO

Jessica

I was walking Lily yesterday morning (she was actually walking me) and we ran into a woman with a small white dog (don’t ask me the kind because I suck in this dog department-naming kinds of dog-thing). We started chatting and I asked her how old the puppy was because it looked young. She told me she didn’t know the age because it was her daughter’s dog which her daughter got somewhere at some point when she was high. Her daughter is now in treatment, and the mom has the dog.

I told her how sorry I was to hear about her daughter. She told me that this was stint number two and that they were running out of options. She talked about how addiction is brutal, awful and then she said, “It’s killing me while it’s killing her.” We both started to cry and we hugged.

F***k.

I feel like a broken record as I continue to remind myself that good comes from not-so-good, but I was having trouble seeing it for her in the moment. And, this was a reminder to me that when people are hurting, you can’t always tell from the outside.

We chatted a bit more. I told her I had my daughter’s dog and that it was a blessing but also a bit tough at times. We did the Minnesota chit chat thing, weather, weather, gardening, weather, sports, etc. and then we went on our way.

I watched her walk away in front of us. The cute puppy kept looking up at her and she kept looking back down at it. It was the sweetest thing, and I wished I had noticed it before. I guess that’s the blessing … they have each other.

Life is beautiful and beautifully complicated at the same time. I’m praying for them.

Jessica

I went out last night with someone. Very nice, interesting and smart and at the end of the evening, I got the question: “What are you looking for?” I stumbled over my words. And, in typical lawyer fashion, I answered with a non-answer.

On the way home I kept asking myself “What the f*** are you looking for?”

I’m in the back nine, so shouldn’t I be looking for something? Like shouldn’t I be looking to take advantage of all the things I’ve not experienced thus far? Trying to “fit it all in?” My boys wish I would date, so I won’t be “alone.” I get it. I hear them. But do I need that to make me less alone? Am I alone? Honestly, I’ve never felt less alone.

So what gives?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying “I’m fine.” There are serious issues in my life I would like to fix. I have a kid who is very unhappy with me. I miss her. I have a dog that is not healthy. I wish I could fix that. I could use more headspace. I’m working on that. But if you asked me if there was something that is missing … something I’m looking for, for me. I would say no. Nothing.

This is not me avoiding self-care. It’s not that I don’t enjoy life. In fact, I think this is me finally putting self-care on the front burner. This is me totally enjoying the now!

I want to be around people I love. I want to hear the sound of the trees, the rain and the wind. I want to listen to jazz. But I’m not looking for all that, I’m just experiencing it. I’m just grateful to get up every day and do whatever it is that comes my way.

But I also want to address this notion or fear of being “alone.” We have this fetish with being alone. Like the “best” obits are when it says, “He died surrounding by all of his friends and family.” Sheesh, so, it’s supposed to be bad if you die alone without a billion people standing over you? What are we so afraid of?

Why can’t we just enjoy being alone? I think we have a screwed up definition of alone. I have friends in marriages that say they feel alone. So, what does that mean?

Here’s my thinking, getting older is when we finally have the opportunity to get closer to ourselves. It is the one thing we avoid as we quickly move through life, having kids, raising them, etc.

This my friends, is LOVE. Self-love. You can do it in a relationship. You can do it in a marriage. You can do it when you’re single. When we feel more connected to ourselves, we can so much more easily connect with others. Then, we can give to others without taking from ourselves, right?

So the answer to the question is … I don’t need anything. I have me.

I’m going to take that one to the bank in this wonky market. 🙂

XOXO

Some of my friends know I broke my toe five days before I was leaving to hike Rim to Rim in the Grand Canyon. Not a great move on my part. I told my dog to chase the geese and she ran out of the house and I ran behind her (barefoot). However, in some region of her brain she decided to stop running suddenly but she failed to communicate that to me. 🙂

It’s taking a bit longer to heal (because of course I decided to do R2R with the broken toe) so I’ve taken to soaking my foot each day. Today, for the first time in a couple of weeks, I realized that I sit here with a nice warm foot bath but only put one foot in … the injured one. I know this seems like a stupid topic (as most of mine are) but it got me wondering why I wasn’t even considering taking care the other foot at the same time. Like we only take care of the injury and move on … know what I mean?

Yesterday I was with a dear friend and we were talking about being on the back 9 of life and how in many ways, it is so wonderful. She reminded me that there is a big life misconception that we should take care of others before we take care of ourselves. We’ve been ground down into thinking that taking care of US is selfish but that such thinking is really f***ed up (my swearwords, not hers!).

She’s right, of course. However, as I write this I realize that I do not like those posts that talk about self care … like how to take care of ourselves by getting a massage, nails, travel, quiet time, etc. Honestly, I’m pretty sure that’s not what I’m thinking about here.

When I think about self care, I think of forgiveness for myself. Letting go of the stupid shit floating around in my mind. Reminding myself that we can’t look back so what do I want to see going forward. I even think self care is listening more and talking less.

Look, I know jack shit here, so I’m not sure I’m a good baramator. I’m just musing about life (when I should be working) and sitting here with (now) two feet in my bucket. It’s a start. 🙂

XOXO

Jessica

I watch with interest the changes to my hands. The nobs. The skin changes. The dark spots. It’s the roadmap of my life. Some of you may know what I’m taking about. A lifetime of typing, taking care of children, gardening, etc. are all shown on our hands.

There are a million articles on the internet about how to “fix” your hands. To get rid of the nobs on your joints. Smooth your skin. Get rid of the age spots. I say – F*** it! to all that. This is me. My hands are changing. They look older. Life.

I look at my hands with awe. I use them as a reminder of all that I’ve accomplished!

It’s no news that things change as we get older. Aging “well” does not have to be about paying for changes to your body (although no judgment there … getting older means we can shed judgment!) but I think aging well is to living fully, one day at a time. Really loving yourself and those around you, appreciating all the beauty, and squeezing every minute out of every day.

I used to think my dog walk in the morning was an opportunity to get things done. Look at my phone. Get my heart rate up. But I’ve changed. Now I take awe walks . I make sure that I see the beauty in five things every morning —one for each of my kids, one for Lily and, of course, one for me. It forces me to concentrate on something other than my knees, or how tired I might feel or even what’s coming up that day.

Recently I looked in the mirror (at my hair, which I’ve never liked) and realized that I’m not going to change it. I’m done with that anxiety producing part of my life! I don’t have to change anything more about me! We now get to embrace and love ourselves. This, my friends, is the joy of these life changes. It’s really freedom.

Let’s flip the narrative of invisibility. Of our kids moving away, which leaves us missing them and wondering what’s next and who we are. Let’s look at our changes with awe. With admiration. We earned all of these changes and now is our time to enjoy them.

Me and my beautifully worn hands are off for our awe walk. I am smiling at all the joy my hands experienced thus far, and the more joyous experiences to come!

XOXO

Jessica

Some of you know that I have a dog who has been pretty sick lately. This landed us in the emergency vet hospital at 4 am on Sunday morning. Dehydrated and really not feeling well, this 55 pound dog laid in my arms for the hours we waited for the doctor.

About an hour after we walked in a woman came in (maybe in her 70’s? I’m a terrible judge of age as I get older!). She had a black lab who was having a lot of trouble walking and she had a gentle leader on him.

I couldn’t help but listen to her talk with the receptionist. He had dementia, more than 10 years old, and had been throwing up for the last few days. She had no idea what was going on or what to do. The receptionist was so loving. Once the woman got checked in and sat down, we chatted a bit and then she moved to a different part of the clinic so as not to bother Lily, who was sleeping in my arms.

I heard her phone ring at some point and she started telling the person that she was at the emergency vet. Then I heard her voice crack and say, “I don’t know what I’m going to do. He’s all I have.”

F***. Oh man.

Here I was, sitting with our own puppy who has been sick for a year+ and I’m listening to something even more heartbreaking! She sat quietly listening to the person on the phone, I could hear this woman crying, and then she got off the phone as her dog wanted to move around.

I wondered what the person on the line said to this woman. I wondered what she would do when her dog was gone. I wondered about how I would deal with that situation. I also wondered if I have been loving and understanding enough when this has happened to my friends.

I started to run through in my mind things to say: “I’m sorry for your loss.” “You loved him for his whole life.” “He loved being with you.” Then I realized that what I’ve missed is that when we lose a pet, just like losing a human, firsts are the worst. So, maybe something like, “It may be hard the first time you go to the park or for a walk and I’d love to join you to do that whenever you’re ready.”

I don’t know. I am so not prepared for this moment. Really not. I don’t think we ever are.

All I know is that on that morning, I was reminded that we just don’t know how people feel or what they are going through in any given moment and the grace we give is really the most important gift we can give each other.

XOXO

Jessica

I was out for a run Wednesday with my peeps (shout out to my running family!) and finished my last couple of miles myself. As I was wrapping up my last mile, I passed a woman. She was bundled up in a way I didn’t expect as it was rather nice out. Her head was down and I passed her as she was going the same way I was (so I just saw her back). She was walking very slowly and I said, “hi” as I passed by.

On my way back I saw her still walking—incredibly slowly (now I was running toward her) and she looked awful. Clearly crying and IDK, there was just something about her. I’ve seen so many videos on my feed lately with people sending messages like “help me,” that I felt the need to stop. I did and simply asked if I could help. This woman (now I could see she was a young woman) looked up. I asked again, “Can I help?”

Turns out, her story is my story, is your story…

Her mom died about 4 months ago in a house nearby (she pointed somewhere but I was unfamiliar with the neighborhood). It was her last parent alive. She had lived with her mom while she was sick and every morning she would take a walk along this street. She would watch the cars whiz by and listen to the leaves in the trees and pray that her mom would be ok. Since her mom’s death, she has come back to the house every morning and walks the same walk. She says she’s late for work every day but (she’s crying now) she feels so afraid to not come and do this same walk every day … afraid it will cause her to forget her mother.

Oh man. I had no idea what to say. She acknowledged that this could not go on forever but she could not stop this walk. I hesitated for a moment (and what rushed through my mind was that I have forgotten my own mom’s voice … a fact that quickly caused me to choke up). I then reminded her that it is not a betrayal of her memories of her mom, to change the morning walk. I told her that when I feel sad, and I still do, I try to look for clues or signs that my mom is still “with” me. S***, I felt at a total loss. I wish I had more in that moment. I hugged her and finished my run.

Later that day, in a totally weird quirk of fate (and not at all in my plan for the day), I ended up at the food co-op which was the last place my mom ate before she died. It was her favorite place to shop. How strange … I almost never go there. I didn’t realize what was happening until as a left someone who was outside asking for money on the street said “Have a special day.” Something my mom used to say.

Here I thought I met that woman earlier for her … but maybe it really was for me.

Give yourself grace on a day you are sad about someone who is no longer here. Thank them for giving you a moment to think about and love them even though they are gone.

Thanks mom! I may have forgotten your voice, but I get that you are still with me every day.

XOXO

Jessica

I’ve been having the most interesting conversations with women who have grown kids. Everyone has something a little different to say about their experiences. Like, “I’m not sure who I am,” or “I’m trying to figure out what I like now because all I did was things for my kids.” Recently I heard, “I find myself only as happy as my most unhappy child” … (serious, but sometimes true, statement).

So, what is this all about? What are we supposed to be thinking or feeling? Is there a supposed to be thinking?

As a mama of grown kids, it’s hard to admit that we have forgotten a little (read/a lot!) about who we are. We start to think about the next chapter, while at the same time feeling shocked that the last chapter is over. What do we want in our lives? Who are we? What will our relationships be with our grown kids? What will our relationship be with ourselves?

The answer(s)?

I haven’t a f***ing clue!

Here’s what I do know:

1. It is ok to feel lost. It makes sense. Be ok with that. Tell your friends you feel lost sometimes. We love you and support whatever you’re feeling.
2. Be ok in the white space. That space where you have nothing planned. Take that moment to think about your parents. Thank them (if only in your mind) for loving you even when you didn’t call very often.
3. Be ok with the job you did. As a parent, I sucked sometimes and I was great sometimes. But in the end, I did the best I could! (so cliché, but true).
4. Know that the longest part of your relationship with your kids is just now starting. What do you want it to look like? I find myself playing the intermittent life coach. I’m loving this role. I liken this to being on the emergency crew for a Formula One race car—immediate need and then they speed away!
5. Be the adorer. For you. I’m really not sure what this means but I hear this a lot … “Jessica, do something nice for you.” I’m exploring this right now (stay tuned). Currently, I’m hoping that watching Golden Girls counts as doing something for me!

I don’t have any answers today. But for me, being a mama has changed in the amount of time (and energy) (which sometimes is super cool!) But being a mama has not changed in the amount of heart.

Text them that you love them, feel thankful that you have a nice long relationship ahead of you, and then enjoy the beautiful sunrise … for you!

XOXO

I got a box of chocolates recently. As I was looking at it, trying to decide which piece to eat first, I remembered how I felt as a child with a box of chocolates. At the time, I would pick one, not really thinking about it, eat it and then try the next. But this box made me think that my number of chocolates is finite. I no longer get endless pieces. So, what should I do about that? How can I enjoy each one intensely?
 
Frankly, this one small box of chocolates got me really thinking (as you can tell!) and I ended up writing down four (+) “life wants” as I enjoyed my first piece with a cup of coffee:

1. I want to jettison absurd humans who, despite their chronological age, haven’t grown up. Or those who are so self-absorbed that they don’t care about who they hurt or what they do in life.
2. I want to spend time with people who are humans, real humans, who know how to laugh at their mistakes, and who are not inflated by their triumphs, and who take on their responsibilities. 
3. I want to defend human dignity. I want to move towards truth and honesty.
4. I want to surround myself with people who know how to touch hearts, people who have been taught by the hard blows of life and who can help me grow my soul and will allow me the privilege of helping them.

There’s no question that I have less time going forward, than I have had the wonderful fortune of thus far. That’s obvious, not sad, but obvious. And, even though I want to eat my chocolates slowly, I guess I am in bit of a hurry. I mean, I’m in a hurry to live with the intensity that only the grace of maturity can give.
 
I don’t want to waste one more piece of chocolate on stupid thoughts, fears or selfish people. My goal is to reach the end satisfied and having eaten all that I want to.
 
Yes, we have two lives. My second one has begun. And, it includes all of you. Join me!

XOXO

Jessica