Nothing But the Truth

Many people ask me what I do in my home office. I research writing contests, submit entries, mentor new writers, and try to think of something fresh to post to my blog. Today it's raining in the Flathead Valley, the husband is asleep (he works nights, hence the Glock and large dog) so I write when I can.

The essay today is this:

I've been married and divorced, chunky and thin, blonde and brunette. I've been a stay-at-home mom, a single mother, a career woman, an absent wife. I've been a good daughter, a forgiving sister, a friend that listens. I love my eyes but not the new fine wrinkles. I love my smile (the teeth are my own), but hate the fact that I don't have lips like Angelina Jolie.

I like my hair cut short, I love the bold blonde streaks, but continue to be concerned that it's thinning at the top. I struggle, I pray, I attempt to maximize the positive. I give thanks to God, the universe, and my parents who could have kicked me to the door.

I carry an AARP card, but too shy to ask for discounts at retail stores or the movies. I tell the truth if someone asks my age (due to turn 61 on August 26) and my current weight (150 lbs) but want to fib about my height. Use to be 5'7" now one inch shorter...sucks to be me.

Middle-aged baby boomers can identify with me! We still have mood swings, desires, and goals even at "our" ages. Aging is not a disease but an opportunity to grow, reflect, learn and share our lessons. I tend to think of my emotions and experiences as leaves on a truly magnificent oak tree. Some leaves wither away and drop to the ground, while others sprout green and reach for the sun.

We must bend.