I will be thirty on Sunday.
This has been on my mind for quite some time now, and while I know it is simply a drop in the bucket, it feels significant. 30. They say 50 is over the hill, but I think that 30 is more stigmatized in a way. You are no longer “young”. I am sure I have heard the words “ew, they’re like, 30” more than once. By the time you reach 50, it is fairly easily accepted that you are no longer young. Is there a set of keys I ought to be handing in? A “youth” card? Am I supposed to act different? I certainly don’t intend to.
I haven’t celebrated a birthday in years, and last year, I removed it from facebook, because I got sick of all the people who would tell me “happy birthday”, and then ignore me for the rest of the year.
I have two daughters. Krishna will be fifteen in October. She will be half my age – the age I was when she was born (yes, I am overly concerned. Who wouldn’t be?) Arienette turned three in March. She is a ball of sunshine. Most of the time. Of course there are times when she is a hand full, and I have difficulty restraining my frustration. Last night, for example, we were at kung fu with Krishna, and she was overtired which resulted in several meltdowns throughout the four hours we were there. At one point, I just had to walk away for a moment, and ask one of the other moms to take over, just so I could calm down. the truth is, I got very lucky with both my girls. They are beautiful, sweet, smart, happy, healthy, good girls. I couldn’t ask for more.
Will I be less capable of controlling my temper after Sunday, or is there some magical pill that grants you patience?
Will people suddenly start taking me seriously as a mother?
The truth is, the only thing that will change is my age. I will still dye my hair random colors, and do my makeup more like a Drag Queen than a lady (though, in truth, not exactly like either) I will still find joy in wearing strange clothes, and laughing, or singing at random moments. I will keep my sense of humor, and still seek the fun and joy in life. So why does it feel like such a big deal?
Perhaps it is that i feel as if I am running out of time. I would love to have two more kids some day (I know, crazy). I also don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone. I feel like, before long, I will not be capable of bearing children, and I want someone to grow old with, not someone to find once I am old.
I have been thinking about death a lot lately.
Really thinking about it. Thinking about how it will feel to die, or to know I am dying. Will I be scared? Sad? At peace? I have never been afraid of death, but as time goes on, I lose more of the people I love. I don’t think that will be stopping any time soon, and it makes me think. Okay, well, everything makes me think. I think far too much, in truth. I am curious about how I will die. Will it hurt? Will it be from illness? Old age? i like o joke that I will die because I got too close to a dangerous animal. I love animals, and, given the chance, would probably not hesitate to go hug a lion or something equally dangerous. However, I can’t help wondering how I will really die.
I have considered what I would like done with my body. I want to donate whatever can be used medically. My skull should go to an arts program of some kind (Oh to have it used in a rendition of Hamlet or something). Then, I would like the rest of my fleshy bits to be donated to the food chain at some level. Perhaps to some Piranhas in the Amazon or something. The bones can be ground into ashes if nothing else of value can be done with them. I just want to be put to use once I am gone.
Christopher Lee passed away on Sunday, June 7. The world heard about it yesterday. When I read the headline, my initial reaction was shock, but then i got to thinking about it. He had been ninety three. He lived a good, long life; why should I be surprised?
The truth is, we tend to put celebrities on pedestals. Somewhere in our subconscious we seem to think they are immortal, that nothing can ever take them from us, and in a way, they will live on through their art. Christopher Lee was a phenomenal actor and a superb villain. Dracula, Saruman, Count Dooku, and so many more roles that he has given life to. He will forever live on in our hearts, and through them. Every time I put in The Lord of the Rings, I will see him and smile. But the man is gone.
I went through a similar thought process when we lost robin Williams. He was my childhood, and I have never heard a bad word spoken against him. I will likely go through something like it when we lose Johnny Depp, as is bound to happen eventually. The fact is, one hundred years from now, nobody who is alive today will likely still be here. It is a sobering thought.
Perhaps, turning thirty brought on all these thoughts about death, maybe not, I have always had a taste for the macabre. All I know is that it is not going to change who I am.
Not in the least.