Happy Birthday - again

Once, when I was in standing in line, I noticed a woman in front of me who was close to my, um...time line. While I was standing there, I began meditating about some of the curveballs I've been thrown over the years.
Let’s begin with just a few... I've had some very questionable haircuts, I’ve recently acquired a another hitch in my get-along, I’ve got an extra droop here or there, and oh, yeah, some slight weight gain…you get the picture.

That's when it dawned on me. Our minds grow at a different rate that our physical bodies. Isn’t that amazing? And ironic?

So I began to ponder, just how many of us really understand the worldwide phenomena officially known as
“The Ohlman Laperectorization Defluxapating - Capacititable Ostracalculator Obstreperating Teterazition Syndrome” (O.L.D. C.O.O.T.)?
Well, not many, I would hazard a guess.
In layman's terms, it means that after a certain age, we experience a type of reverse mind/body connection. While the mind still ages, it does so at an incredibly decreased rate, and at the same time the body's physical aging process is accelerated.

For example, when you're born, your mind is new. When you're 4, you think you have the mind of a 6 year old. This process continues as you grow - your mind races ahead to be a 16 year old while your body is still barely 13. When your physical self is 16, well, your mind may think of itself as 18, 20 or even 22. Before you know it, you can wind up with a 23-year-old mind in a 17 year old body.

Then one day, out of the blue, KINDALIKABOOM! you have a Distinct Mind/Body Connection. You think like a 25 year old AND you are 25 years old.

But then (and this is the part you need to pay attention to), your mind undergoes what is known as the Stop, Drop, and Rollback experience. It goes into a reversal mode. Your mind may stay at 25, but your body goes on aging year after year, until one day you realize your body is now 32.

For the record, let me state that some minds actually begin to regress as the body ages, but that characteristic is usually only seen in males. To help clarify "The Ohlman Laperectorization Defluxapating - Capacititable Ostracalculator Obstreperating Teterazition Syndrome" (O.L.D-C.O.O.T.) and the "Stop Drop and Rollback" processes, we will discuss only normal people.

OK, are you still with me? Mind's age- 25, body's age- 32. Now, when your mind is 32, your body is actually approaching middle age or beyond.

Over the years, professionals, idiots, and professional idiots alike have all pondered the same age-old question, "Does your mind ever think it is Middle-Aged?". A mind that's 50 years old? I would imagine that when and if your mind even thinks it's anywhere near 50 years old, then someone, somewhere is already planning your funeral.

Were you to ask me, "What about your mind"? I would reply that's yet another story entirely, but for the purposes of this entry, I would only say that my mind is still intact (as far as I can tell).

My youngest daughter (who will be 31 in a couple of months and has been to college, so I know she knows what's what) perked me up by saying I was probably in the top 2 % of women who have the "It" factor in women/girls of my age group. Somehow, even though I didn't believe it (actually, I didn't even understand it), it clicked something, somewhere deep within me.

So, I cut my hair 1" shorter, added a burgundy sheen to it and I got hooked up with a guy who really knows his hair gels. Throw in some bronze eye shadow, big hoop earrings and Mammie's got a brand new look.

Ooops, I'm digressing, again.

My biggest fear is not growing older - (in fact, it's not even the opposite) - it’s growing older and no longer having a zest for life.
I fear looking like my mom. I fear wearing pink polyester pants that are too short. The fear of - gasp - wearing socks with sandals, of being seen in stirrup pants, of wearing that indestructible mutant housedress, commonly called a “muumuu” (add knee hi's to the outfit at this point).

I fear growing older and not wanting to sleep naked anymore. I want to put my Christmas tree up the day before Thanksgiving - even if I'm going to someone else's house for the holidays that year. I want to sip Dom Perignon any time I want too, not just on New Year's Eve. I want to keep a big box of decadent chocolates on my nightstand (in addition to the one in the kitchen) - just because.

I don't want to think it's too much trouble to make love in the afternoon. I want to be able to get in the car and just drive and drive and drive until I am ready to go home.

As I grow older, I want to still want.

I fear growing older and fading. I fear growing older and thinking that life has passed my by.

I fear falling for the hype about those low-fat, tasteless, easy to chew, fiber-packed, all-you-can-eat Early Bird Dinner Specials at 4:30 pm. I don't want to eat that early.
I fear growing old and wanting to stay home at night because it's too dark to drive. It's nighttime, it's supposed to be dark.
I fear not wanting to dance when I hear good music…I fear wanting things that don’t fit the stereotype…I fear not wanting to indulge in life.

I fear I’ll begin to follow the rules. The old people rules.

I don’t want to be defined by age or by shoulds or should nots:

I want to

be / do / wear / have / sing / feel / drink / allow / explore /keep / think /wish / love / keep / give/ watch / pursue / own / write / want

at whatever age I am.

When I was 18 (now, that was 30 good years!), I was fearless and adventurous and life was full of opportunities. Now I'm in my 50's and life is full of wonder and I am fearless and adventurous. And when I'm in my 80's I want to still be fearless, adventurous and full of life.

On my last birthday, I told people - those who were rude enough to ask - that I was 3 years older than I really was.

My birthday is next Sunday.

So next week, if anyone asks, I'm going to add 5 years to my age.
I'll look good for my age.

I'm not old. Not even when I look in the mirror, do I see old. I only see someone who used to be younger. I'll never be old and I hope to never be boring. I want to be vibrant and joyful and fun to be with - right up to the very end.

Right up until they try to explain the bizarre circumstances surrounding my demise and knowing what I'm smiling about.

So for now, I'm 58. Or 63. Doesn't matter, it’s just a number.

Don't forget to visit me at No Small Parts, the original