Here is the old woman secret that appeared to methis morning. I hate all the grumbling I hear from old people, and yet, here I am doing just that. Today’s specific grumble is how we long for ‘the good old days’ by complaining about how things currently are in the world. This one can totally consume us if we let it. And, in case you’re wondering, it is not about good memories. It probably has to do with lack of control in our lives.
We old women still want to be perfect, both in our own eyes and in the eyes of others. From our old age stance, however, we offer the wisdom that no one is perfect, nor can they. It’s not that we’re lying; it’s just that we want what we can’t have. It’s a life long conundrum, starting with wanting cookies for breakfast, to a perfect teenage complexion, to a glamorous job, to compliant children. Then, as we learn that those dreams are unattainable, we soften our expectations, and become satisfied with the nuances of every day life. But we still hold onto that ideal of perfection within us.
Maybe that’s a good thing, not letting go of wanting to be perfect, or shall I say, the best we can be, especially in a old woman kind-of-way.
I am a 78 year old white, educated, privileged woman, in excellent health, with a wonderful family. I go to church and travel by myself to Italy and Scotland. That’s my public vita, my public persona. But that’s not all who I am. I have secrets, secrets of an old woman. So let me say some more.