Today’s my half birthday. Twenty nine and a half. 6 months til the big 30. I used to love my half birthday. It was always exciting. I’m a weirdo and always made a bigger deal out of it than most people.
12 1/2 meant I was almost a teenager. I couldn’t wait to be 15 1/2 to go get my temps. 20 1/2 meant 6 more months til I was 21. But there’s no looking forward to being 30.
Our society puts so much emphasis on youth and beauty. We don’t take care of our old. They get very little government support. They have the worst health care coverage. Many are left in nursing homes to die as if they’re a burden. Old people should be celebrated, but, they aren’t. So what’s the appeal of growing old?
Josh told me that at 30 you start to come to terms with your mortality. I mean that does make sense. Most people have jobs and kids and responsibilities. Once you enter your 30s you kinda know where you’re going to be for the majority of the rest of your life.
I had a case at work this week that really bothered me. This old lady had killed herself at her nursing home, and I had to sort through the requested photos of the scene (my job is weird and disturbing sometimes). What bothered me most about the room was how empty it was. No pictures. No personal items. No blanket from home. Not even a plant. The room was empty of anything that showed this women was loved by someone. Now, I didn’t have the whole story obviously. All I know about her and her back story came off a Deceased Person form. The picture painted by the room though was enough.
I don’t want to end up alone. I want my children to come visit me. I want to have so many fond memories that I have too many photos scattered around. I don’t want to be old and in a diaper and stuck in a nursing home with no hope. I know it’s inevitable (hopefully not the nursing home part) and maybe this is what dealing with my mortality is. I just don’t want to come to a day in my life where I have no hope for the future. It seems like such a horrible place to be.
And now that I’ve thoroughly depressed myself about getting older, let’s focus back on the now. I’m still young! Well, sorta. I am an 84 year old Yiddish grandmother named Eunice on the inside. She likes to knit and bake and talk about how foolish youths are, but I’ve still got plenty of life left to live. I get to wake up and feel the sunshine and hug and kiss my babies (who are still little babies) and run without too many pains and eat without worrying about how my stomach will handle it. 30 isn’t old. 30 is just the beginning of a different type of life stage.
I’ve made a 30 before 30 bucket list back when I turned 29, and I’ve been working on it a little bit. Statistically, at this point, I should have 15 of them done. I definitely don’t. I also had to go back in and change a few because they just ain’t gonna happen (like going tubing when it’s been in the 60s all winter). So here’s my full list and what I’ve accomplished so far:
30 before thirty
- Go berry picking with my girls
Go on a hayride
- Play in the rain with the girls
- Knit 10 scarfs to donate
- Get hair professionally dyed
- Write at least once a month
- Pay off a bill
- Fix the roof
- Organize the house completely
Fix/replace the oven
- Go on a family vacation
- Get another tattoo
- Save $1000
- Lose 30 pounds
- Finish painting the kitchen
Family portraits taken
- Paint pottery
- Make a cake entirely from scratch
- Visit Carew Tower view deck
- Visit Sunlight Pool
- Run some sort of race
- Take Josh to the Taste of Cincinnati
- Go camping
Got out to a fancy dinner Own a king size bed
- Make smores
- Donate my hair
Make $50 on etsy
- Go see a dermatologist
- Make something out of blown glass
So here’s what I’ve accomplished:
– go on a hayride
-fix/replace the oven
-family portraits taken
-go out to a fancy dinner (Anniversary at the Melting Pot)
-own a king size bed
-make $50 on etsy
So I’ve only actually finished 6. I’ve got about four currently in the works though. So it’s not too bad. Some of them are rather lofty goals anyways. So yeah, 6 months left to kick this list into gear. 6 months til I become “old” whatever that means. 6 months til a trip with my Joshie to celebrate another year.