Good Day ALL of YOU MIDDLE AGE WANDERERS!
I am reading a memoir by Laura Munson, ‘This isn’t the Story You Think It Is … a Season of Unlikely Happiness’. I am reading it backwards because ... well,
AT MY AGE, I KNOW the beginning tornadoes and the path laden not golden, ripples around those angles salted by the wisdom of thought . The author is in the middle of her life when the movie changes, the vague previews become shorter and the refreshments add padding to the hips and inches around the waist. Oh heck, it views like a battlefield, with moi' dogging all of the bullets!
I read the first chapters of Laura's book and it sounded so much like my current situation that I found myself longing for the archaic sanity that does not seem to exist outside of the realms of enlightenment trickling out of the multiple ‘Self-help’ literature dusting my shelves. I want ….no I NEED normalcy! However, I no longer KNOW what that is. I have searched, read, and listened while inhaling gallons of ice cream and watching my identity shift beyond the recognition of normalcy and into the grip of perplexity. My world has TOTALLY entered the twilight zone, and Scottie is not beaming me up!
My fairy godmother abandoned me some time ago – probably at the start of menopause when all of my walls started tumbling down and all of the Kings horse and all of the Kings men could not put this princess back together again. My esteem lay wobbling in my pit of ambiguity – clueless as to my own identity - my tarnished wand scattered all these brittle crumbs upon my withering path, and well …
I let myself melt into the blemished shadows of anxiety.
When veins of my existence pen and feather my pages, I long for the reminiscence of my children and grandchildren to DISTINGUISH what once throughout a lifetime was and KNOW lessons lived and wisdom earned robbed not the glimmer birthed. That is why I share with you. That is why I write these pages so YOU, my dear, sweet wanderer will KNOW you are not ALONE and REMEMBER the light that you are ...
the presence that does MAKE A DIFFERENCE.
I am learning to value those lessons that youth, schooling or capital could not have taught. I was EATING dinner at Costco and one of the samplers ( a middle age wanderer) was close to tears because a ROYAL customer complained to her supervisor after she did not receive her sample before a mere mortal. I simply let the sampler lean her head on my shoulder as she blessed me with the gift of compassion and I gifted her with belief and faith. This humble being, wearing a net on her head and serving samples to all of the king's men and all of the princesses in waiting, is somebody's mother, wife, grandmother, sister or friend.She clings onto a minimum wage job while longing for dignity for she is , after-all, doing the best she can with the pride circumstances has not yet robbed from her shattered life.
I think of my mother who,although she put IOU's under my register and gave away half of my store when she, in the middle of her life, worked my retail store, arose EVERY morning and put on her Sunday best so once a week I could put groceries on her table and a smile in her heart. She walked with her head high because my store gifted her with more than money in her pocket ...it gave her pride and joy and dignity and now her memory gives me vision, compassion and respect.
I share my journals with you because although all of our experiences are different, they are so FULL of KNOWLEDGE. Thus, the MORE we SHARE and UNDERSTAND, the MORE compassion and love we pass to those yet to reach the middle of the road!
Therefore, as I sip my tea and travel through the pages of Laura's book I long not for answers but normalcy in the spin of perplexity dancing in the shadows of mid-life.
SHARE your stories so that OTHERS may HEAR your VOICE and BREATHE !
With Loving BLESSINGS! D.
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