Growing Old

I would like to grow old-really, I would. In the cycle of life, that is what I am supposed to be doing now. So, there are days when I think of these things:

• Downsizing: What would it be like to move into a nice, new condo where the maintenance fee pays for everything? With a bathroom that doubles as a spa, has special shelves for candles and toilets that flush themselves. With a white on white decor to match the requisite little white fluffy poodle--with a bow on her head, of course. And, finally, a kitchen worthy of my friend Palma.
  

Problem: We would first need to sort through an accumulation of 45 years of "stuff"--a commodity which I learned during our year in Italy we don't need. Why I ever thought we did, confounds me. It seems that a good solution might be to rent a large container and just toss stuff in. But.............what about the art? the mementos? the silver that seemed so important for our wedding registry? the..................? Oh, it is just too over-whelming. Guess we'll probably stay put and let our son deal with the stuff....later.

• Letting my hair become its new natural color-grey. Think of the money and time that could be saved. I could really be "me." Wonder what that is?

Problem: Casey thinks I am 51--until last year he was convinced it was 35, a year younger than his mother. He believes Ken dyes his hair (not true) but that my hair naturally changes color every month or so all by itself (true).

• Forgetting that I used to be a size 6 and learning to love the new look--after all, double is better, right?

Problem: I hate the mirror these days. That surely isn't me looking back. Or maybe, as a practical joke, it has been exchanged for a fun house mirror. And--somehow now if "it" fits in the waist, it hangs on the hips or if the hips fit nice, the buttons don't work right. I had thought the problem was with Italian clothes--not so.

• Traveling at will when seeing great deals to exotic destinations: Myanmar, Thailand, Fiji, Turlock, Disneyland...Bella Italia.
  

Problem: A 9 year old who needs someone to make sure he does his homework and who feeds him dinner. Plus--no clothes that fit the destination--or anywhere for that matter.

• Moving to the countryside where night skies are black and roads only have two lanes--this way and that way.
  

Problem: Refer to #1 and... can we really recreate our idyllic, paradisiacal Italian hilltop vineyard home with its views of castelli medievali? Somehow Paso Robles doesn't quite do it.

• Living life as a senior rather than as a parent. This two-hat existence overwhelms sometimes--as well as being confusing. What would it be like having a house not overrun with transformers, legos, and time machines. Most of all, what is it like to "send them home" at night?
  

Problem: Not being able to imagine life without our boy--his loving arms and endearing ways. Not knowing that Pokemen evolve into weird and wonderful creatures. Not discovering that it is possible to wet your hair and present yourself as having taken a shower.

And finally, I count my blessings that age has brought me youth rather than illness and pain or poverty and helplessness. Yesterday I was explaining to Casey the meaning of viewing one's cup half full rather than half empty.

My cup overflows--Most of the time.