This morning I walked my dog Bella with a friend and her dog at the municipal golf course. Young dogs have so much agility and stamina, it is a joy to watch them. We were able to enjoy an early morning chat while the dogs got some exercise.
Our conversation started out with the horrors of politics, then on to, the worries and joys of children, grandchildren, and parents and inevitably to postmenopausal symptoms. Our new aches and pains that won’t go away, no libido, stomach fat, new lines emerging on faces and new hair cuts to make us feel young. I told my friend that I’m very sensitive lately when I hear people talk about women of a certain age. Recently my pet peeves are: people calling me “Mam”, ugh (hate that), “can I carry your bags” (do I look like I’m an invalid?), now the newest….”do you want the senior discount”. (Are you f’n kidding me?) That is not cool! Even if someone looks like a senior, you never ask. It’s like asking if your pregnant. (Which I have done and it’s very embarrassing). I used to snicker under my breath when I heard my mom and her friends speak about these things. Hahaha, now here we are. My friend and I both agreed and said our good byes.
I am forever grateful to my friends who I can have open and frank discussions about issues of age. My friends don’t pull me in every direction; they keep me gently tethered to the earth. When I feel anxious, sad, resentful or maybe even happy, I am rooted in their love.
After our walk I met with a home care provider for my Dad. She and my dad hit it off and he admitted to both of us that he could use a little help. She is a young woman (my age) who will lighten my load a bit by taking him to appointments and doing general household chores. After some exercise and some weight off my shoulders, Bella and I went home happy. I went into my studio and began to work. It was a good day.