Hats Off, I got to thinking. Ms. Weddell was an actress, loved to dance and at age 90 was named one of New York City’s 50 Most Beautiful People. Although her name isn’t as recognizable as other actors, she is definitely recognizable. Her energy, spirit, willingness and drive to keep going is inspiring. She was 93 when she died. But there was something else. To quote the film synopsis “The story is also about dreams, both literal and figurative. In the dead of winter, Ms. Weddell travels with a cousin on an ethereal journey to visit for the very first time the city of Florence, Italy, for the celebration of her 90th birthday, a goal she has held since age ten. As she proclaims, “If you can achieve one dream in your life, just one, no matter how small or how big, it’s a miracle, it’s a miracle”.
So here I am watching this documentary about a women in her 90’s when my thoughts decided to turn to the fact that I‘ll be 50 in 2010. Now this is not a new revelation. I mull it over from time to time. The last occasion I had issues with my age I was turning 20. There was something momentous with no longer being a teen. I guess at the time I thought that meant that my life would change dramatically. As I recall, it didn’t. And my guess is that turning 50 won’t expose any dramatic changes either. But still, I am struggling with the thought of turning 50. Although the 40's were, shall we say, challenging, with some good, bad, happy and sad, I’d give the last 10 years an overall rating of pretty darn great all things considered. I like being 40. Forty sounds young - enough, but a person who is in their 40’s has lived long enough to have some noteworthy life skills to show off.
So what is up with 50? Chances are nothing. Humans do it all the time and have been doing it for just about ever. I don’t typically try to worry, fret and manufacture drama. After all I am old enough to know better. But “hello, my name is Cynthia and I am 50” just sounds like it belongs to another Cynthia. Not that I have ever introduced myself and told my age at the same time. But point being, I don’t feel different. And when I ran into friends I haven’t seen for years about 7, they said I look better now than the last time they saw me which could either say something about how bad I looked then or preferably, that I am aging gracefully. So if I don’t look 50 and I don’t feel 50 who cares if I will be 50. Not sure, I’ll get back with you on that one.
With all this thinking I am doing tonight, I think it might be good to write an essay chronicling the next 7 months leading up to my 50th birthday. Yes, 1960 was the year of my birth and here we are embarking on 2010. I think there is something for me to learn about myself.