One of the things I enjoy as I get older (and maybe it’s a little odd but so be it) is seeing something and imagining, "What would my younger self would think?"
Let me elaborate. Recently, my husband and I were out dining with some friends at a restaurant, and the waiter distributed scented hand wipes at the end of the meal. You can see from the photo what a charming little gift it was: the tiny box with it's pen and ink couple that is reminiscent of an Al Hirschfeld sketch. Open it up, and nestled inside there is a trio of scented wipes: amber, wild fig, and pink grapefruit.
Okay, so it was pretty stinkin cute. And I said it was cute as I took it from the waiter’s hand. But then something just welled up inside of me and brought a big smile to my brain (if it's possible for brains to smile). I couldn’t help but think, “What if I had been given this as a little girl?” I would have been thrilled with such a treasure.
First off, I imagine I would have energized the pin and ink drawing. It was just screaming for some color. The crayons or markers would have come out. Second, I would have examined each “refreshing towel” packet and then agonized over which one to open first. Intense questions would have been asked such as, “Should I open and use the scent that intrigues me the most?” Or “Should I not even consider the fragrance, but perhaps focus on packaging? I could open the least pretty one, saving the others for a more special occasion." (Yes, I used words like "least pretty.")
No doubt heavy decisions for my small self to chew on, but it would have to be done.
It’s moments such as this one that I had in the restaurant, freebie towelettes in hand, that I find myself doubly enjoying. I believe it’s because I can look at a situation with two sets of eyes – eyes from years ago and current eyes. With the towelettes, I found delight in not just seeing them, but realizing how "little me" would have reacted years ago. It makes the younger “me” not seem so distant. And I find this important, because I’m a conglomeration of all my ages. And for a brief moment in life, it’s like two time periods meet together, and I live out the moment with twice the appreciation.
One of my friends gifted me with this little favor bag tucked full of goodies. She had them made for her sister’s bachelorette weekend as a funny care pack of sorts for the gals to use during their fun frolic around Los Angeles. I was touched she brought one back for me (she knows I have a penchant for beauty products), and as I read those sassy red words, I had one of those “a ha” moments that became the basis for this first blog post you are reading.
For me, the proverb on this pouch is exactly how I used to feel about aging: It seemed a good idea at the time.
I can recall so many moments in my life when I longed to be just a little older because then I could go on my first sleepover, just a little older and then I could drive, just a little older and then I would be a college student…(I was pretty dramatic, so let your reading voice draw out the italicized words with a good solid whine.) I think I spent more time longing for milestones in my life than I did the actual milestone itself. Let me be real with you. Little me spent so much time dreaming of my first kiss, and the grand affair took just a few awkward seconds (albeit cute awkwardness.) That first kiss finally came, but never satiated, it seemed a good idea at the time for me to be a little less content with whatever my current situation was and to instead look eagerly forward to a future time.
But now fast forward to my 30s, and I was disturbingly doing the same thing – only I was reversing the process– looking longingly back in time to when I was younger and wondering why time had moved so slowly, yet in hindsight, so quickly. Growing older seemed a good idea at the time, but was it actually just a disappointing fate that I foolishly saw through rose colored glasses?
No, I don’t think so.
Part of the excitement of looking forward to something is, well, the excitement. But the excitement of getting older, while, ‘it seemed like a good idea at the time” is still very much a good idea and the entire purpose of my blog. I’m diligently discovering that despite the trials life can bring (along with aches, pains, and other unpleasant situations) aging is something I can eagerly look forward to, and indeed a good idea at the time, whether I am 35, 57, 78 or 105!
Creator of Love, Auntie.
About LOVE, AUNTIE
Welcome! My blog is a journal of sorts as I seek what makes "older" worth celebrating in a world that tends to glorify "younger." I hope it's a place you will find encouragement and positive words.