37 Candles


37. For whatever reason this birthday really shed light on some things for me…the lines and wrinkles on my face! My husband and I celebrated my birthday a few days early in Madison with a Badger vs Iowa football game. Tailgating, Pat McCurdy, the electric atmosphere of Camp Randall, and an adult meal at The Old Fashioned. It was a near perfect weekend.

There was a definite chill in the air that Saturday. I remember my face feeling tight from the cold. After a change in possession, I was ready for a bathroom break. I was standing in line, surrounded by several young women, students and recent grads. I went ahead and did my business and proceeded to wash my hands. And, then it happened. I saw my reflection in the mirror as well as every line around my mouth and eyes. It seriously was like one of those moments in a movie. Self-discovery. Even though I didn’t feel like a 37 year-old, mother of four, my appearance definitely painted that picture pretty spot on. The moment took my breath away.

I never wanted to be a woman who was bothered by aging, but I am. I have been wanting to write about my issues with getting older even before that day in November. I didn’t because I didn’t have a moral of the story yet. I didn’t have the epiphany of realizing that age is just a number, women are like fine wine, blah, blah, blah. BUT! Just last week I read a quote from one of my faves, Helen Mirren. In fact, I often tell a friend of mine, “I want to be Helen Mirren when I grow up.” When asked about aging she said,

You either die young or you get older. That’s the reality. I don’t want to die young.

Obvious, yes, I know. But, it seems so much wiser when someone else says it. So I guess that’s where I am at. I don’t want to die young, so bring on getting older. And, maybe some retinol moisturizing cream.