Last year I turned the milestone age of 50. This year, I turned — wait for it — 51. I remember when 50 was drawing near that I found myself not dreading it as much as I did when I turned the big 4-0. Forty was when I had to start wearing readers and coloring my gray hairs on a regular basis. Forty was when I felt my body start to slow down a bit; it wasn’t as easy to lose weight. Everything began to gather an extra bit of “padding.” Life was busy while I raised my teenage boys and kept on going in my teaching career.
Fifty kind of just appeared because I didn’t think about it as much. Two months after my big birthday, my college roommates came for a girls’ weekend. All of our birthdays are close together; Alex turned 50 on January 3, Suni turned 50 on January 9, and I turned 50 on February 3. So by the time the girls’ trip came about, we were all officially entrenched in our new decade. We had such a fun time shopping in Chicago, going out to eat, and even taking in an Elvis show at Buddy Guy’s Legends with my husband’s band playing. We spent time doing absolutely nothing, and that was perfect. We didn’t really have to pack our time together with activities; in fact, most of our time together was spent at my house.
In my younger years, I was a little obsessed with audio and video recording moments with my life. This obsession has become a little bit of a blessing and a little bit of a curse, for it is completely cringy to observe the idiocy of my younger years. I thought I had life all figured out — and I had no freaking clue. I know that is just the way life goes, but it is hard to watch it now.
And yes, I took plenty of videos of my college roommates and me, and it is interesting to compare us at age 21 to age 50. Back then, we were so worried about what we were going to wear to the bar and spent SO much time getting ready. Was our hair OK? Did we have the perfect shade of lipstick on? Was so-and-so going to be at the bar, do you think? There was so much mental energy that went in to just fitting in – but also wanting to stand out and be noticed by that perfect guy.
Fast forward to age 50, and none of that matters. All of us have been divorced, and two of us are currently remarried to the people we feel we should have married the first time. When we go “out on the town,” the focus is being together and laughing and remembering good times we’ve had in the past. I give zero craps about whether I’m in fashion or if my hair is perfect or if my makeup is on point. Friendships that have lasted over half of your life are rare and precious, and that becomes increasingly obvious as one ages. Our time together is definitely focused on each other rather than ourselves.
This past February, my husband’s band had a week-long gig at Busch Gardens in Tampa, and my best friend from high school decided to also fly down there and spend several days with us there. I marvel how I can rarely see these friends, but when you’re with them in person, it’s like you’ve been with them every day. You fall back into old patterns. Our time together was a breath of fresh air, and I am so thankful for the ones that stick around throughout time.
Cheers to being 51!
