Stay Forever Young – Between The Ears, Anyway

I’m always learning. My grandmother taught me that it would keep my mind young.

She was right.

My daughter and I were sitting on the couch last night, watching the final (or not so final) episode of Downton Abbey on Masterpiece Classic. (Oh, how we love Maggie Smith! She has the best lines, the best delivery. So much fun to watch.) We were talking about the age of women of that time period for marriage and childbirth.

My daughter turned to me and said, “I can’t believe you’re going to be 50 in a few years. You certainly don’t look that old!” (I suppose that was a compliment.)

“I know,” I said, “I don’t feel almost 50. I feel almost 30. In my mind, I feel very young.”

She looked at me oddly.

“You know what I mean?” I asked.

“No, mom,” she said with a grin, “I’m only 18. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I suppose it’s a bit of a You-Had-To-Be-There-Moment but we were sent into a fit of giggles. Of course she has no idea about her mind feeling young. She’s still young.

My grandmother loved politics, crossword puzzles and bridge. I love current events, jigsaw puzzles and playing Euchre and Rummy. She and I were/are both voracious readers. She loved fashion and studying pop culture. I love new music and discovering new artists.

Anything to keep your mind young; but like the Nike ad said –  just do it. Exercise that muscle between your ears. Pick up a new language. Take a cooking class. Yank out your old Algebra books (I just did that the other day and had a blast challenging myself to complete some problems.)

Our bodies, our eyes, our once nimble fingers. They will show their age no matter how much exercise or botox we try.

But our mind?

That has the true potential of staying forever young.

Still Walking On Sunshine

Writing about my divorce yesterday stirred up memories.

And then my blog friend Leslie at Five To Nine  wrote about her courageous announcement to her parents when she became engaged at a young age, like me.

I noticed the calendar.

Gasp!

25 years ago today.

Yes, I was a child bride. Well, not a child. 21. But too young to know what I was choosing. Too young for me.

He was 10 years older than me. He had a successful career. He knew what he wanted. Who he was. I was still stifled by my parents. I wanted out. Out from their control. Away from my childhood.

And I was in love. I was following my heart. On that May 11th, 25 years ago, just before going out the door to arrive at the church, Katrina and the Waves came on MTV singing “Walking On Sunshine.”

“Wait,” I said to my sister, “I love this song!”

“We’re going to be late,” my sister said.

“I don’t care. I want this song in my heart today.”

So I sat there, with my hair and make-up expertly done, veil already attached. Wearing blue jeans, t-shirt and flip-flops. Soaking up the song. Singing along. Smiling like a fool.

I was so happy that day. So excited to start my new life.

As soon as it was over we raced to the church to get properly dressed, humming that song, dancing with my sister in the courtyard while we sang.

Every time after, whenever I’d hear that song I’d remember that beautiful day. My wedding day was like a fairytale. I have no bad memories. Nothing went wrong. Not that I can remember, anyway.

And then. Eleven years later. We divorced.

Not that popular of a song anymore, I rarely heard it. But when I did, I would fall into a sad little funk. What was I thinking? How could I have been so blind? I was so stupid.

Slowly, gradually, I’d hear the catchy refrain and I’d catch myself humming along. And I realized, it no longer reminded me of something I’d lost. It reminded me of what I was living now.

“Walking on sunshine. I feel alive. And it’s time to feel good!”

Always the optimist, always glass half full, “Walking On Sunshine” still has a power over me. If it comes on the radio I have to turn it up. If I’m home, I have to dance around the room with a child in hand. I grin like a fool every time I hear it.

Yes, 25 years ago today I took a chance on something that failed.

No. Not failed.

Ended.

And today I’m experiencing a new chapter – dancing, laughing, singing, crying. I have no idea where this chapter is taking me.

But I’m having a blast while I’m in it!