When I was in high school and college in the '80s, one of the prominent bands was The Police. I went to at least 2 of their concerts during my college years, and later a Sting concert when he went solo. Undoubtedly, I was absolutely hooked on The Police, specifically Sting. I remember commenting years later to my husband that I was drawn to his intelligent lyrics. Eyes rolling, he replied, "Yeah, right." OK, I'm a little transparent.
Last June, The Police decided to launch a reunion tour. We saw them perform at our local venue. It was their first appearance together in ... 23 years. Holy smokes, 23 years! We took our teenage son to the concert as well. It was an absolute blast. I was transported back in time. I was 20 again. It was magical.
Last night, my son and I saw the Police in concert again. This show was touted as the "farewell, final performance." (We'll just see about that.) I found it interesting that last year, I was consumed with thoughts of, "I wish I was 20 again ... I wish Sting was young again ..." This time, as I watched the 56 year old performer on stage, sporting a scruffy grey beard on his face and neck, I thought to myself, "No complaints."
Watching the crowd before the show, my son turned to me at one point and said, "I hate it when 50 year old women dress like teenagers." I looked at the object of his comment, a woman in capris, black tank top and sandals. I told him, "I'm sure she feels really good about herself, what difference does it make? Besides, are you going to say that about me in 5 more years?" He was quick to reply, "Hopefully, you won't look like that by then..." (Nice recovery!)
But back to "growing older," on stage and off. I have to say, I have no complaints. Aside from some issues with gravity, I have yet to reach an age where I've thought, "Oh no!" I have always maintained that no matter how old you are, there will be someone older who would give anything to be your age again. Besides, 5, 10, 15 years from now, I don't want to look back and think, "What a lot of time and energy wasted on worries of growing older!"
It seems that God puts us in various seasons of life for a reason. Twenty years ago, that season was up-and-coming young professional. I was blazing a trail in marketing and PR (well, sort of). My Mom had always worked and I felt certain that was what I wanted as well. But then I became a mother and found myself shocked at the extent to which the desires of my heart changed.
Ten years ago, I was in the thick of motherhood. I had four children ages 6 months, 2 1/2, 6 and 7 1/2. Wow! Those were some hard years. If hell isn't fire and brimstone, then I'd say mother of four under the age of 8 might suffice!! In fact, I still look at babies and think, "No thank you!"
Ten years from now, I might be a grandmother; or at least a mother in law! All the chickens will be out of the roost. My husband and I will be on our own again. What will that be like? What will God have for me then? I don't know. I don't need to know. I'm taking this adventure handed to me one day at a time.
No complaints from this "middle aged" woman. Just wonder and gratitude for where I've been and curious determination for where I'm going.