A few weeks ago, just before my Fabulous Fibula Fracture, I had started to draft a new blog post prompted by an interesting comment made by my friend, Liz.
She wants to freeze time. To stop the clock. Right now.
Liz and I are both in our early 60’s. As are many of our friends. And we are finding this to be an age – and a stage – (an inadvertent rhyme) – where we would like to freeze time. So we can enjoy life as it is for a while longer.
If only we could hit the “pause” button.
We are (mostly) healthy and happy. Our spouses/partners are also (mostly) healthy and happy. We are all working full or part-time or reinventing ourselves in semi-retirement. We are (mostly) empty nesters. Our adult kids, in their 20’s and early 30’s are finding their own ways in the world – mirabile dictum.
We have reached a unique stage of life where – for the first time ever – we are not constantly pressing the “fast forward” button.
Think about this -> In every earlier stage we were always anticipating, waiting for the next phase to begin.
When we are young, we can’t wait to grow up.
When we are in college, we push to graduate.
First job, when’s my next vacation.
Engaged? Plan for the wedding.
Married, think ahead to a family.
Young working mom? Always tired, count the minutes till bedtime.
On the job, march on to the next project, await the end of each workday, hope the weekend comes quickly.
Empty Nest? We made it – and it is our turn. (wasn’t there a movie with that name?).
Finally – We arrive at a stage where we want time to stop – let’s hit the “pause” button!
Which is a wonderful thought, we should savor our current lives, have not a care in the world as to the unforeseeable future…
EXCEPT for that awful TV commercial that keeps replaying in my head. The one that translates to “we interrupt your normally scheduled programming to bring you a slice of unpleasant reality.”
Perhaps you have seen this ad for a financial planning firm? Where the people interviewed are able to recall that both good and bad things happened to them in their past – but somehow anticipate only good things will happen in their future.
Wrong! The announcer intones in a Dreadfully Serious Voice that it is likely as we enter our 60’s, 70’s, 80’s and 90’s – yes, bad things WILL happen. And we should prepare for them by saving lots of $$.
Of course, we know this. We aren’t idiots. We read, watch the news, our heads aren’t buried in the sand. And $$ is likely, frankly, to be the least of our problems. You have it or you don’t have it, at least you have some control over it. Unlike good health where we have absolutely no control.
And no control over the “pause button” or the time clock either.
Which is too bad because I would really like to speed up the next six (more?) weeks of this fibulastic (made up word) healing process so I can set aside my skills at hopping. And then after I get back on both feet, to freeze time for awhile.
From my perch on the couch, I watch my husband delighting in grandparenthood as he plays with our visiting two-year-old grandson.
“Faster, faster” our grandchild (actual toddler pronunciation = “wasta, wasta”) tells my husband as he spins him around and around while seated on a desk chair on wheels. The little guy’s idea of an indoor amusement park ride.
The two-year-old wants to go faster, faster; I want to go slower, slower. And there we are.