Writing Assignment #7: The Age I Am Now

What is it like to be the age I am now? I can sum it up in four words: My cup runneth over. That’s because I’m happier now than I’ve been in any other decade of my life, even though I have to admit I’m “middle-aged,” an expression that evokes a certain wrinkling of face and thickness of waist.

The first two decades of my life were all about Catholic school, and I wouldn’t want to go back there. Life in my 20s was filled with milestones. There was college; living on my own for the first time in a big city with a “real job”; law school; getting married; our first house; having my first child. It was a lot to pack into a decade. That was all good but nothing was settled, and I felt I had not yet arrived at whatever my life’s destination was supposed to be. Although my 30s were a productive decade, they were probably the most traumatic years of my life. I had 3 more kids, made a drastic job change and moved out to the suburbs. The traumatic part was when I was pregnant with my 3rd child, our pediatrician told us our 2nd child had autism. That was a frightening revelation, and the news that our third child had a higher probability of being autistic because of this only added to our fears. We entered a new world populated by kids with disabilities, speech and occupational therapists and special education. My husband and I were both working but somehow money was always in short supply. I couldn’t sleep. Basically I spent the decade being worried: Would our son go to school on time? Would he be accepted by his peers? Would he become independent some day? Would he ever learn to speak? That was 12 years ago and today I know that I and my family are more blessed than most who get that kind of news. I would say now my son marches to his own drummer and in my view that is never a bad thing. He goes to school, has friends, plays the guitar, and yes, he speaks. He is warm and a pleasure to be with. My subsequent children are healthy, and all my kids love and care for each other. I can’t say I don’t still worry but my worries are on a more manageable scale.

So now that I am well into my 40s, I am sitting back and enjoying life. When someone I haven’t seen in a while asks me “How have you been? How are the kids?” I’m likely to tell them I wish I could freeze time. My kids are all independent (no diapers, no strollers, no more therapy) and healthy. They are not so old that they refuse to be seen with me; on the contrary they seem to enjoy having me around. No one is driving yet so for the moment I don’t have worries about having a teenager behind the wheel of a car. No one is in college yet so I still have at least some disposable income. My husband and I amuse each other with predictions about how he is turning into his father and I am turning into my mother. Fortunately for us, they are both people we like so that prospect doesn’t bother us too much.

Probably the best thing about being the age I am now is that everyone I love is around me. My father, at 80, is as healthy as he has ever been and only retired three months ago. My mother, at 74, is still the best cook I know and can whip up a gourmet feast for 15 people on an hour’s notice. My in-laws are always on the move and generous with their time and affection. My husband is as handsome and sweet as the day I married him, and after 17 years he still keeps me laughing. And my kids, as you may have guessed, bring me constant joy.

Sure, I have the aches and pains that come with age. My knees hurt; my back hurts; sometimes even my teeth hurt. And I need a lot of sleep or else I get cranky. None of that really matters. Because if good fortune is a giant pie to be divided among all humanity, somehow I’ve been served a great big slice. And if happiness could be poured from a great pitcher into the cup of our lives, my cup indeed runneth over.