"The Martin dairy farm is going up for auction this week," she told me, shading her eyes from the sun. They'd be heading out to the county to watch the neighboring farmers bid on the old home place.
"No one wants it?" I asked in disbelief.
"Nope. With six brothers and only one of them farming...it will be sad. What about your grandparent's house?"
Oh, that. Up for sale. Open house today. It's my mom's old home place and it's been tough for her.
I looked at my friend, still thin as a sheet of paper turned sideways. Probably still cutting her dress from the same pattern as when she was sixteen. But wait, are those some gray strands of hair I see peeking out in the front? Did she notice mine?
"These are the kind of things you talk about when you are middle aged," she said with a smile.
My friend, who is a few years my junior, was whole-heartedly, joyfully, embracing the concept of a time in life we call middle aged. She was at peace with it, and felt no pressure to be seen as the young women we were ten or fifteen years ago. I loved that. It validated something I always say, which is, you better love whatever age you are and claim it. If you have a problem with forty, you'll have a bigger problem fifty. Have a problem with fifty? Seventy will probably kill you.
|Photo courtesy of friend and frequent commenter BATMom. Don't you love it?|
Sometimes I see something and think, oh, I've always liked that. Other times it's more like, oh, if you had told me twenty years ago that I would like this I'd have thought you were crazy. I love how we never stop growing and changing.
I'm okay with being middle aged, even calling it that. It is a grateful life we lead that we can choose a favorite season that comes around every year, greeting us like an old friend. Then there are the seasons of life that come, stay for a while, and are gone forever having served their purpose. While the warm harvest of summer will always be my favorite time of year, I can enter this season of life peacefully, with confidence that an exciting hay ride awaits.