Blossoms (me, my daughter, and aging)

Women are so focused on their looks these days (and probably always have been) that aging becomes an uncontrollable nightmare. For me, I have a feeling I always thought I would be young until one day when I would wake up gray-haired, wrinkled, and content to be someone’s Grandma. Instead, I find it’s a slow process where all of the sudden you notice your skin is not so nice any more, or that gravity has suddenly had it’s way with certain body parts, that you ache sometimes when you stand up, or your ability to add pounds seems unlimited.

When I went to a women writer’s conference, my mind was unleashed and my fear and loathing of getting older leapt right out onto the paper. The following was written in response to an exercise where we were to take a flower from a vase and “become one with it.” We needed to focus on that flower for some time, then write down what we felt and thought. I drew a gorgeous double lily that I surely thought I could “become one with” somehow. The exercise seemed sort of “hoaky” to me at first… but here’s what burst through.

Although I was really fighting this train of thought because it can be so unpleasant, I couldn’t help but focus on the unopened bud. There are two flowers here, both growing from the same stem. And here’s the flower on the left – it looks a little worn. The edges of the leaves that were once firm and beautiful are now wilting and wrinkled just a bit. The flower, itself, sways slightly, sort of tired and losing it’s strength. Then, jutting up energetically to the side, is the unopened bud. The petals are completely smooth, not a wrinkle or warp and there’s just the faintest blush where there will soon be generous full color. You can just peek in the top of the bud and see promise and glorious mystery in there. It’s so youthful! But the other flower… well, it’s been around.

Funny how I should pick this flower the day before mother’s day when my daughter and I are so close. While I marvel at her budding womanhood – out of the house, planning a life of her own. She’s so beautiful that strangers stop to comment and I’m glad. I’m proud of her and happy for her. But me… oh, how I hate aging, and how I wish I could be back in the “bud-stage,” filled with anticipation – because we all know that anticipation is by far the best part of life.