Birthday Bomb

A milestone birthday approaches and I don't mind one bit. I'm lucky enough to have a roof over my head; enough money in the bank to pay monthly bills; a husband who loves me in spite of my OCD; friends that give back; a dog who adores me; a cat that tolerates me.

I have the freedom to wear sweat pants all day if I wish; or put on a short denim skirt with UGGs and get away with it. I can wear make-up to go to the post office or simply put on sunglasses and lip gloss. If I want to sit on my flat bottom all day and thumb through a stack of People magazines I can. If I decide to write a 5,000 word essay and submit it to an on-line contest I have the freedom to do that. I can carry a Coach 'hobo bag' and spritz myself with expensive cologne... or put my DL and cell in a pocket, forget the fragrance and leave for an afternoon of shopping.

I may have $20 to live on for a week and feel like I've hit the lottery. I'm free to fly like a bird or sit in a tree like a frightened turkey. That's what age brings a person: The freedom to do as you please and not expecting a reprimand in return.

I know the difference between good and bad; affection and attention; lust and love; truth and lies. I've made enough mistakes in my life to know better. I'm not here to say I'm a wise woman, but a woman full of contradiction.

I've had more than one person tell me that I'm reserved; yet others say I am comedian funny. I've had more than one person tell me that I'm aggressive; yet others say I need to speak up more. One friend will say I need to change the color of my eye shadow, and another says forget the silver white streaks in my boyish hair cut and put in strawberry color instead. I love all the suggestions but as my BFF would say, "I know you better than that." I am polite enough to listen to suggestions but I will always do what feels best to me. If I were in my mid-teens and living with the parents I would be obligated to listen and oblige. Those days are far behind me! The more you press to change me the more resentment I will feel. Like Lucy in the Peanuts comic strip: "You are not the boss of me" and my favorite phrase "What have you done for me lately?"

I am a middle aged woman that happens to be a wife; a mother; a grandmother; a daughter; a colleague and a friend. As the Linda Ronstadt song goes: I am exactly what I am and not the way you want to see me be. You can't tell me where to go, or who or what to be.

And that is what retirement is for me. Sixty-five and glad to be alive.