ON BEING AN OLD BIDDY

(This is the second or third time I have written about getting old.  It's hard to believe, when you're young, that when you get to be my age, you still have intense feelings!  It's time to be done with that, for Pete's sake!)

Some things about being an old biddy are quite fine, like being able to watch any dern thing I want to on TV.  Even political stuff.  Also that I don't have to plan for three meals a day and shop for them and then cook them all.  I don't miss doing laundry three times a week.  Now I mostly do it when I want to do it, or when there isn't another clean pairs of undies or all my socks are in the hamper.  I don't have to tell anyone where I'm going and when I'll be back..  I don't have to keep my home a haven of rest, I can let the trash sit around and the dust collect.  Vacumming gets done once every two weeks, hopefully.  I do still clean the bathrooms daily but I don't know why I bother - maybe because it's just ingrained in me from years and years of getting out the can of scrubbing bubbles and sparying the sink and toilet and shower and cleaning the mirror.  I can't seem to break that habit.

Other things are not so fine.  One thing that I find painful is that I am no longer part of a couple.  I go to a party and people play a risque game where you close your eyes and touch a strand of hair someone is holding - so many times for your mate's hair color or his name -  and all of a sudden the person holding the hair strand pulls it away and you say something like "where the heck is it?" and everybody laughs because the answer has a dirty meaning.  But they always bypass me because I don't have a man to laugh about. And the at the end of the night everybody couples up and gets into their cars and I get into mine all by myself and drive home.  I know that sounds petty and silly but somehow it depresses me.

Yesterday I was alone on Christmas morning.  My kids always leave me some gifts under the tree so I turned on TV to the Christmas Parade and unwrapped my gifts and it was fun, but in my heart I missed my hubby bringing me a glass of wine and turning on the stereo to Hark the Herald Angels or It's Beginning to Look a Lot - for us to listen to while we unwrapped.

I guess what it comes down to is that I am old and a widow and I am growing wrinkles and parts of me droop and I am not as pert and pretty as I once was and I am sad about that.

But on the other hand I am still alive and I still love chocolate-covered orange peels and White Russians and marigolds in my garden and I got myself a new little car that I named PuttPutt and my dog is house-trained so I guess it's not all that bad.  There is still something inside me that is happy!

© 2012 Just Lynne - 12/29/12


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