One of my dearest gal pals (see snapshot below) played a HUGE role in getting this blog going.
She was the first friend to ever tell me she can’t wait to be old. And she’s far from joking. She finds beauty and fun in the aged. She revels in the antique – she even runs a business selling beautiful vintage home décor pieces.
She is a star to me, and one of the few people I have found who is looking forward to old age. I know there are more out there. I just haven’t stumbled on them too often – making me feel they are a rare breed.
In a nutshell: I hope this blog helps my readers as my friend helped me. I knew when she said that she couldn’t wait till “we are old ladies together” that she was a keeper. I wanted this gal to be with me to the end. I loved her enthusiasm, and I was determined to catch it.
I don’t want to join in with the typical grumbles and complaints about old age. For some people, it may be satisfying and even helpful. But it isn’t for me.
And once again (for dramatic affect) I hope I can be to you, my readers, what this dear friend is to me: an inspiration as we celebrate another milestone, another holiday, another year.
My niece is still young enough to sport a plastic tiara. Anywhere. I have to admit, I found myself feeling bittersweet as I saw her crowned head running errands with her Mom. Should I mourn the loss of such carefree, simple childhood fun?
An answer came to me recently as I shopped for a new headband. The alluring store display had a variety to choose from – they were gold, silver, shimmery, and elegant – all appropriate and fun for the holiday season.
As I arranged one on my head and studied my image in the mirror, a tiny smile came to my lips. The headband was reminiscent of a tiara. And then it hit me: maybe growing older doesn’t bring as much loss as I first thought?
There typically comes a point in life when it's not as thrilling (or appropriate) to wear a big plastic toy tiara to run errands in, but that’s okay, because I had only traded it in for a new kind of ornament that beautifully echoed it.
Thrills come at the beginning and do not last…Let the thrill go…and you will find you are living in a world of new thrills. CS Lewis
And that’s how I felt, as I faced my sparkly reflection in the mirror: thrilled.
The unicorn you see in the picture was drawn by my niece, Bear. To the average person, it’s nothing super special: “It’s cute. Now let’s move on.”
But I just can’t. Because I’m thinking of myself at Bear’s age, when I was producing my own artwork. If that unicorn had been mine, I would have seen a million things wrong with it. I didn’t understand why those older than me appreciated my childish drawings. I wanted my perfect vision to “come to life”, and when it wouldn’t, I was disappointed.
Now I see the unicorn before me. I have no idea what bear’s original vision was. I just know that I can’t get enough of its charm. The tiny triangle ears perched behind the horn. The detailed nose holes. The big round horse rump, complete with flowing tail.
I’ve walked through famous art galleries and museums around the world. I even took a selfie with the Venus De Milo. (I know, you can’t take me anywhere.) I’ve gazed on historic paintings, drawings, and sculptures that have taken my breath away.
And this unicorn drawing by my niece did just that.
Because being older and wiser than my young, critical self, I can now see the beauty in the interpretation, the effort, the imperfection. And I find it down right stunning.
Boy Meets World, the complete season, recently came to Hulu.
I. was. Ecstatic. It was like an early Christmas gift was handed to me.
For those of you who could not care less about this guilty pleasure of mine – please stick with me. Imagine an old, beloved TV show suddenly back in your life. All you need is time and a comfy place to plant yourself for a binge watch.
I had mixed feelings before I dove into the series. I was worried I wouldn’t enjoy it like I did years back. I didn’t want to be disappointed: I didn’t want, in a way, to deflate a special memory.
But an unexpected thing happened as I watched. The show seemed even funnier, because I now see the adult humor that was written into the script; it brings a whole different dimension to the series. I wasn’t fully relishing the show when I was younger: I was eating a large meal and enjoying it – but not partaking of all the delicious dishes set before me. Not that it’s a bad thing. Younger me obviously loved Boy Meets World.
However, this experience re-introduced me to the concept that in life, there are layers to more than just onions. And if I were to think otherwise, I would cheat myself of the depth and richness of life that the years have to offer.
Creator of Love, Auntie.