AARP

From September to the first part of May, Dad and I bowl together on Thursday nights in a mixed league. We meet about 6:30, spend some time together, get frustrated and excited for each other, laugh and be corny together, and I also get the chance to see him with his friends, doing his thing. I sometimes really enjoy watching my parents with their friends. I’ll find myself wondering what it’s like to be their friend and not their kid.

Thursday nights I like to think of Dad as “Bill my bowling buddy.” I like to call him “Billiam” it makes me giggle and I don’t think he hates it. Other nights it’s “Daddio” as in, after he throws a strike he gets a high five and a “Way to go Daddio!” But, like any sport, it can be mentally challenging. When you know what you’re suppose to do, but you can’t get your body to do it. The missed mark, missed spare conversion, the pin that didn’t drop but dang well should have, and the self inflicted errors we make as bowlers well, that can mentally wear a person down. It tests the inner strength and belief in yourself as well as your composure and how much you let it impact you. But, at the end of the day, a night out with your father doing anything is always time well shared and I try and remind myself that’s what’s important and not the fact that some nights, I suck. Bad.

It was just a few weeks ago I had a horrible night bowling. I had four strikes the entire night. Totally different then the week before where I had 9 strikes in one game. The struggle that night was real and by the third game I just succumbed and realized I couldn’t fix it. I just had to ride it out. Dad and I chatted a little about it as we walked to our cars and said our usual “goodbyes” in the parking lot and well, the drive home alone was somber. Walking through my front door the cats greeting me made the mood feel a little lighter and as I made my way to the kitchen my guy was right there ready with the best sympathetic hug a guy could give. It was then though, as I was hugging him, my eyes opened and I happened to catch a glance of an envelope laying behind him on the counter addressed to me. An involuntary lump in my throat came out of no where as my eyes sent the message to my brain, relaying the return address information. 

“AARP”

It was as if the wind was knocked out of me. 

My stomach knotted up and I heard my voice quiver as I choked out “What The F&@# is that?!” Just about as abruptly as anyone could, taking my guy completely by surprise, scaring him, thinking I was talking about something “really bad.”

I felt the tear coming. It was too full to sit inside my eye anymore and while it spilled down my cheek I heard my inner voice…

“Well, it DID feel really bad.” 

If I hadn’t just walked in from a bad night of bowling would I have reacted that same way? Had I walked in after shooting a 700 series (a goal) would I have cared as much? We’ll never really know. 

My guy pulled me closer and reassured me everything in the universe was fine, but it didn’t feel it. I took a picture and sent it immediately to my parents with a note that said….

“Omg, well I think I’ll just cry my eyes out and call it a night. Bad bowling night and an AARP envelope addressed to me….man, you guys, tell me this is all gonna be ok. I just cannnnnn’t eveeeennnn! 😢🤪🙁 love u.”

“My Dad, writing me back almost instantly…

“HAHAHA  we will talk, don’t enroll yet!”

As if he thought I was seriously considering it!

Mom’s response was hilarious…

“My reply…..things only get better.    Lie lie lie.   Ha Ha Ha ……I  LOVE you, it’s all Good 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗“

These two lightened the mood and made me burst out laughing!

All this because I turn 50 this week. 

I had set a goal almost two years ago of “FitBy50.” Challenging myself with workouts and trying to get stronger and fitter and keep things high “back there” as I glanced at things dropping. For almost two years that was in the back of my mind lurking.

If you ask my closest friends, if they’re honest, they’ll tell you they watched me focus on “50” the entire year I was 49. My guy would tell you, he listened to me contemplate this milestone breathing down my neck, my unexpected sadness and concerns that would come in waves on and off all year long. And I, I would tell you when you turn 49 don’t be like me, don’t waste that year worrying about the inevitable. Just be 49. I forgot to do that. Try not to waste the headspace for one minute feeling less than or in lack, worrying, stressing, sad or mad or in disbelief, but grateful. Grateful that you’re as healthy as you are and we’re all in this together. Some ahead of us, some not quite where we are yet, but we’re all in it together. 

I’ve heard “it’s just a number” from all my friends and family. That “I will love my 50’s” (am I the only one who threw up a little right there?!) That I don’t “look 50 at all” and although all of their words are rational, logical, and I’m sure absolutely accurate, it’s still my number. But, on the inside, I seriously think I won’t mature a whole lot more at this point, and am now hearing  myself say…

“And why is that bad exactly?” 

To have both my parents still alive at 50 is remarkable in itself. To be able to bowl with my 77 year old father every week after he broke his hip a year ago? Unimagineable! They set good examples for aging though. Their genetics come into play for sure, but they manage their weight, their numbers, they eat good, they don’t drink a lot, they drink plenty of water, they laugh together a lot and on the days Moms not working (part-time, and we’re not 100% sure why, but you be you Donna) but, on the days she’s home, there’s constant chatter about the house to which I’m sure Dad has nailed that “tune in” and “tune out” knob pretty well after 54 years together.

So, I’ll follow their advice on this new chapter and try and relax into this. That everyday is a gift no matter what your number is. I’ll try and be more like them and laugh about it and pray Moms words of “It’s all good” are true.

And well, thank you AARP. Maybe discounts on things because I’m older is a nice perk and I see you trying to entice me with a low membership fee and a free blue tooth speaker if I join today.

I’m just not there yet, but keep sending me the envelope maybe one day I’ll bite. 

Special Thanks To: Billiam, for saying to me “Way too funny, this is another Devine Time moment don’t you think?”

Side Note: A quick apology to Mom. I used that term “at the end of the day” she hates so much, but it was so perfect I had to use it. 

Personal Note: Fiftyschmifty. I just nailed a 2:30 minute plank this week and although I haven’t made my 50 pushups by my 50th Birthday goal, I have made it to 33 and considering I could only do 3 on 11/1/2018 it does reinforce that saying “Nothing difficult is ever fuggen easy.”