Silver Linings

I turned 56 this year, during COVID19, an otherwise normal birthday down. Yet, it was so different. A few friends did a “drive by” celebration, honking, a brief stop in front of my house with balloons and my favorite bottle of wine. Hollered, distanced wishes and then off they went down the road, without me. I walked back up to my porch, sat down on the swing and tethered the balloons to the arm of a chair. I stared at the bottle of wine. I had never felt more alone.

I like to think I’m empathetic with those older than me, and I trust I am. It’s just that the COVID-19 pandemic has cast a glaring light on how similar we all are, despite our age – the aloneness knows no generational boundaries. My son, at 27, understands the emptiness. My friends, at 48, 32, 61, understand the loss of connection. It’s not just about “the aging”. It’s about all of us. We are likely all feeling this odd sense of being unmoored. I picture small boats, unhitched, floating on the misty water. It’s gloomy.

If aging means that we feel unmoored, then I have lots of work ahead of me. From the time I was a little girl, my heart felt like a fragile egg. People told me I was “too sensitive” or “too easily hurt”. I think now that is my superpower. If we are to understand, truly comprehend aging today, we need to bare our skins, open our hearts the vulnerability. Be willing to embrace our truths and lock arms in our uncertainties. I picture a world where we can tie our boats together, not let ourselves drift apart. We are, all of us, aging. I watch it work its way through my skin, into my bones. I’m no different than the big black walnut tree in my backyard, steady, but branching out, gaining age. But oh what a strong tree it is!

Age, now, is a strange word, a bizarre concept. It’s me. It’s you. COVID-19 had made clear any fuzzy comfort I thought I had, any barrier to “getting old”, whatever that meant. We are, all of us, wide open to discomfort, loneliness, the distinct ticking of a clock.

My heart has likely enlarged in 2020. I hope we've all grown stronger in our branching, steadier for climbing and venturing. There's plenty of work to do as we collect more years. Plenty to understand, plenty to learn.