Thursday, November 15, 2007

For, Fore, Four plus Tees, Teas

During much of 1999, many became mired in the dire doomsday scenarios predicted for the calendar's journey to double ought. 2000 or Y2K as it came to be known, was going to wreak havoc on the world to have the ubiquitous them tell the tale. I, however, couldn't be bogged down with those possible scenarios. I had my own, real-life stories to file. The year 2000 meant that I was turning f-o-r-t-y. Big whoop.

You know the saying, "life begins at 40"? Well, my mom can often be heard uttering her own dire, "not mine!" She has said on numerous occasions how her life ended at 40 (or during her 40s). I find this statement terribly ironic as she was born in 1940. But, that's another post, for another day, or never.

Anyhoo..Me. 40. Big whoop. Even bigger than a 40 year-old me was an 18 year old son. He graduated from high school and started college that year. He voted in his first election and continued stretching those incredibly long "man" legs. Me. 40. Big whoop.

Me. 40. Big whoop. Even bigger than a 40 year-old- me was an 14 year-old going on oh my gosh could she possibly screech any louder? She came out of Jr. high that year and entered the BIG school. Not two minutes in the BIG school did the noise requests for practice driving time begin as did the screeching about following her "rock star" brother. If I said it once, I said it...oh, 40 times...following a good brother is rainbows better than following a bad brother. Whoop! Big.

I was newly single in the year 2000. I had no time to celebrate let alone ponder the significance of what--if you believe the ubiquitous them-- a most significant occurrence that is turning f-o-r-t-y. The celebration and the pondering came in between the seven subsequent birthdays. Given the givens--the periodic frustrations with adult progeny, an aging parent, achy knees, erratic marathon menses and other interesting health related concerns--all that aside, this I submit is my best decade to date.

The seven birthdays since have afforded the opportunity to see my adult progeny grow and glow. I have wallowed in a swell of respect and have been comforted by the strengths I witness within them daily. This seven subsequent birthdays have taught me more effective techniques when faced with the challenges of being my mother's only daughter. Yes, the seven birthdays that have come since 2000 also brought achy knees, erratic marathon menses and more--but those provided never-ending bitching and moaning conversation. Whoopie big.

The very best benefit to come from those seven subsequent birthdays was the emergence of me. The real, blossoming me has been un-folding petal by petal and the garden continues to grow. Sure, the seven birthdays brought cravings that I must be careful (re: health related concerns) about indulging, namely, salt, especially in the form of Spanish olives and potato chips. But the seven birthdays also brought cravings that I try to indulge every chance I get--if not in person, at least in spirit--namely, making love with women one special woman.

Those seven subsequent birthdays brought me out of my 30s and are bringing me into my 50s. The net result of those subsequent birthdays is the joy of seeing the next ones. I'm looking forward to each and every one, for i see them getting better and better.

Soon you will start seeing year-end review lists. The year that was will be condensed to to neat little lists of events great and small causing one to remember, reflect and wonder. Birthdays are like that too. One tends to remember previous celebrations, reflect on the significance of the age and wonder about what comes next. Add this date, November 15th to your lists of events, from this day forward. This date, November 15, 2007, my friend Teresa turns forty. 40. F-O-R-T-Y. Please. Take note.
Happy 40th Birthday, Teresa. Enjoy this decade, it will prove to be quite the ride. At least that's how the ubiquitous them will ultimately tell the tale.

10 comments:

  1. Anonymous10:11 AM

    Great post, Deborah. Really loved reading it.

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  2. What a great way to induct your friend into a new decade.

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  3. Anonymous5:19 PM

    Hmm, I'm going to have to work awfully hard to make these next seven years more momentous than yours have been—your having BECOME A LADY LOVER and all. And Sporks may be opposed to any change of sexual orientation on my part. I'll let you know what I come up with—undoubtedly with no economy of words.

    As for my birthday, it's off to a rip-roaring start thanks to some mighty fine cookies that came to rest on my doorstep after their epic travels from the metropolitan Midwest. Perhaps they're here to serve as a metaphor for the sweet mystery of life.

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  4. Reading this made me think that your 40's have been a real time of blossoming for you, a beautiful butterfly spreading her wings and finding out just where she can go.

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  5. I'm decidedly opposed to any change in Teresa's sexual orientation. Do I really have to be vigilant about THAT for the next seven years?! ;)

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  6. Anonymous11:29 AM

    Sporks... sounds like fun duty! :)

    Sorry- - couldn't resist!

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  7. Anonymous11:56 AM

    Forty must be the decade for those of us who "bloomed" later in life.

    Forty wasn't any huge thing for me. It was fifty that was painful.

    When you get close, I'll commiserate.

    Have a great holiday!

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  8. Val, Amaya: Thank you.

    Teresa, I'm betting it won't be that hard to make momentous. You're ahead of the curve. :)

    Sassy: That's exactly what it's felt like. When it hasn't felt like being 17 all over again. ;)

    Pat: I think 50 will be the perfect time to have my very first b-day party. I think lady love and I will have a Century party that year.

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  9. 40 was pivotal for me. I had gone blissfully along with no sound of a biological clock going off anywhere on me and suddenly....WHAM. When I hit 40, I knew with complete certainty that motherhood was something that I had to experience. This, mind you, was after DECADES of saying that I would never be anyone's mother. Good hell, no.

    Liv was born shortly after my 41st birthday and it was nothing short of a miracle considering I seemed to have no viable eggs. Apparently, I did have one....

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  10. Oh, yes, 40. It seemed so portentious, turning 40 in the year 2000 -- the last year, it turned out -- before Bush spoiled the party that had been our thirties, the last year pop culture and I kept in remote touch, and the last year before my body began to succumb to gravity and orthopedic ailments.

    Seems like 20 years ago -- my synaptic lapses are increasing, not that I can't use a soon-to-be "senior moment" every now and then.

    I've been told I don't look my age, though I've been through almost 30 years with many of my friends, whom I swear don't look a day older than 17. Still, by 40, you have a history, you have baggage. The trick is to keep trying to turn all the accumulated knowledge and doubt into something that makes 50 seem like a whole new day.

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