I think I glimpsed my future yesterday...

[mamagotcha]

... and it wasn't so bad!

I was at a park day yesterday, and met a lovely lady knitting on a fabulous colorwork sweater of her own design. She was perhaps in her mid-to-late 50s, obviously comfortable in her cronehood, wearing a t-shirt featuring a cascade of skulls, talking about her Harry Potter group on Ravelry. A lovely older geeky nerdy gal who sings in her local UU choir, paganish, volunteers at the arboretum, was involved in the creation of the only Sudbury school in Chicago as well as unschooling; her older kids are now mostly grown and gone.

She was funny, happy in her skin, warm and welcoming, smart and sassy... I hope we're going to be friends. Most of the folks I meet through my kids are much younger (I had Linc when I was 41), and while they've been wonderful people to get to know... there's an element of looking ahead, too.

My first midwife, Tosi, was probably the closest thing I've had to an older friend and mentor, back in Davis. I don't think I really developed one in Kansas City (though I think I used Tosi's great example to maybe be a help to a few other younger women, which also felt great). But I've missed having someone a little further along the path than me, or even struggling with similar issues at the same time... kightp, uncanny_npl, paulaandandrew, and essaying have been my virtual great examples of older women embracing their age with grace, strength, humor and style; but IRL I just haven't met many older women that I see and think, "I wanna grow up to be HER!"

Friendships with older women were something I didn't even really realize I was missing. Maybe I need to put some energy into actively pursuing them... hmm. Something to think about, at any rate.

Comments

[elainetyger.livejournal.com]

I didn't think Uncanny was much if any older than we are.

[uncanny-npl.livejournal.com]

Just now catching up with livejournal after weeks of not looking. Darling Gotcha, I'm very pleased to be counted among your older friends who've embraced their cronehood. Me, I haven't just embraced it, I've got it in a stranglehold and I'm not letting go. It's such a huge step up from my former phase--"dilapidated coquetry". For one thing, you get to stop shaving your legs.

Sweet Tyger, I *am* old. I know it must seem incredible, but I'm 51, soon to be 52 (an age I'm looking forward to mostly because of the super-cool deck-of-cards connection). That's not really old, I realize. But somehow I like to think of it as ancient, and I like to think it's brought me serenity and wisdom. I like, most of all, to think of myself as having risen above the fray. Because it turns out I never really liked the fray--all that hope, longing, neediness, upheaval. So I've left all that behind, or, anyway, I *say* I have--which, for me, has always been the first important step toward actually *doing* something.

I'll try to keep you posted on all my changes, and I love that you've included me in the circle with whom you share all of yours.

[elainetyger.livejournal.com]

You see? You're not even 5 years older than I am. I have some wisdom, bloody little serenity, and enjoyment of a good 95% of the roller coaster ride of hope, longing, neediness, and upheaval. The way I feel right now, I will shave my legs when I'm 90 if I can still bend over that far and if it keeps the coaster rolling.

You are not old. You can claim mature, but not old yet.