I turned 48 last month. I’m okay with getting older. Really. I think what my dad says has finally sunk in, ‘It sure beats the alternative.”
In no particular order of importance, here’s what I (think I) know being 48.
- Being 48 makes me see that there are worse alternatives.
- Being 48 looks like pillow lines pressed in my face that take a few hours to smooth out.
- Being 48 makes me not really like the way my years-of-sun-damaged-chest looks.
- Being 48 takes a while for me to get moving in the morning. It makes me also worry what 68 is going to feel like.
- Being 48 has me thinking hard about the number of years I still have left to work, and wondering if I’ll have enough money to reap the rewards of my hard work in my “old age.”
- Being 48 makes me not care so much what other people think about me. Either you like me, or you don’t. “I’m not for everyone, and everyone’s not for me,” is something someone once said and it’s a good reminder.
- Being 48 makes me wonder how long I’m going to wait to do what I think I can do, like write some sort of a silly little book. Because if I don’t do it now, when am I going to do it?
- Being 48 makes me wonder if writing a book is even worth the effort in today’s day & age, because who even cares.
- Being 48 brings a war in my brain of, “so what, just do it anyway, because you’re not getting any younger.” In your 30’s you don’t think “you’re not getting any younger” because you’re still young.
- Being 48 makes me not ashamed to hug my friends hard and say “I love you.” And I’m not a hugger or an I love you-er but I’m trying harder.
- Being 48 makes me okay with having 8 rescued cats, despite the opinions of other that it’s a crazy amount of cats. I know it’s a crazy amount of cats. I also know that letting them die because of a number that seems too big is even crazier.
- Being 48 makes me grateful that I’m in somewhat relatively okay health. I mean, considering I had knee x-rays done over the summer and was told I have knees that are going to need replaced sooner rather than later due to severe arthritis, but in the meantime we’re just taking some pills and they seem to be helping.
- Being 48 makes me realize that having arthritis isn’t the worse thing I could have, even though it hurts most days.
- Being 48 means that while I’m quite aware I’m far from perfect, but I’m trying to be the best version of myself. When you know better, you can do better. I’m working on better.
- Being 48 makes me okay with singing in public. Because who cares, and it’s fun.
- Being 48 is a work in progress.