Middle Age Came and Got Me
I’ve blogged more than once about the struggles I’ve had the last couple years. Most of it has been related to menopause, something I first entered at age 38 thanks to surgery. A couple years ago, the symptoms accelerated and it’s been at times a bare-knuckle ride to fight the hungries, the sleeplessness, the volcanic heat, the bags under the eyes, and in my case, the weight gain.
That alone let me know that my middle age years were not coming up, but present and accounted for. I try not to think about it much because I feel overall pretty youthful. I’m the one parents ask about technology and youth trends (not that I partake in them, I just know what they are as a watchful parent/youth volunteer.) I try to find the balance of being informed and being that mom who joins in thinking she too is 16 and completely embarrasses her children to no end. My mom tried so hard not to be that mom that we ended up missing some opportunities to connect. But as a child and a parent I’ve seen those moms who try too hard, so I’m trying to find that line where I know my age and stay in my lane.
Anyhow, it wasn’t the decreasing time between hair color before the roots go white that really addled me, but it was a text from my sister. She’d messaged me asking if I knew about actor Luke Perry’s death. When I responded that it was indeed true and a sad day, she replied with this: “our younger years have officially died with him.”
Boy, that hit me hard.
In my mind, it wasn’t that long ago my floor mates were gathering to watch that new show on Fox called 90210. We didn’t love Brenda and her whiny ways, but to think of Dylan and Kelly? It was the ultimate betrayal. Although I had little in common with that zip code, that Generation X me so related. We brooded and craved love, but when we received things instead, we didn’t know what to do. The Peach Pit seemed to have all the answers. And although I knew I’d probably be the Andrea character, single for the duration and pining for the one who would only be a friend, I couldn’t help but wonder if a Dylan McKay would ever turn his mad face toward me and suddenly smile. Ah, the memories.
But those few years ago are almost thirty years ago. THIRTY. And I should realize it, because when our daughter wanted to check out Riverdale, I watched with her. Luke Perry went from being the brooding teen to the brooding teen’s dad. If he aged, well, so did I.
I mean, I’m not in college, I have a child in college and another in high school. The kids I met when I met their dad weren’t even teens. After twenty-two years of marriage to their dad, they are parents. Somehow between racing to the best chair to watch 90210, walking down the aisle, entering the delivery room and raising kids, something happened. Middle age came and got me.
Luke Perry’s death reminds me that I’m not 19/20 anymore, and it also reinforces that life is fleeting and we are not guaranteed tomorrow. Don’t let the white hairs stop you. If there’s a relationship that needs some work, maybe it isn’t as dramatic as the Dylan/Brenda breakup, but don’t take time for granted. You just don’t know.
As much as I grapple with being closer to 50 than 40, 52 is so young to be reading about when it comes to death. Cherish each day. Your life is precious.
