I Wish Somebody Had Told Me

What My Mother Did Not Talk About

I can only speak from personal experience, having once been a child and a young woman. I cannot speak from the point of view of a parent because I never had kids.

As I aged, so many things started happening. It was like being a teenager in reverse. The aging-related things seemed to be developing at a rapid pace, or, perhaps it was my sense of time that began to shift. I’ll have to ponder that one.

It took me a long time to finally get through my perimenopause years. In truth, they seemed to last forever. I’d end up going two years with no bleeding, thinking because I’d hit that one-year mark, I was finally done. Nope, the clock starts ticking over once that blood flows again, even if it is only for one day. So, that happened several times. I remember a medical person commenting that I should have stopped. I only shook my head and said, “I don’t know why, but it hasn’t.” Anyway, I can’t remember when it finally happened. I lost track, but I was well and truly done.

Then, there were the times when it felt like pieces of liver were falling out of my body. Nobody, absolutely nobody, ever said that was going to happen. But it did, and now it is over. I survived.

I remember being delighted that I no longer had to keep period supplies on hand. Long ago, I had become resigned to them, but now? I’ve got that much more shelf space, though I still have, just in case, some old napkins around. Hell, you can use them for all sorts of things besides what they were intended for. Hey, you could save them for when you need to move into Depends.

One thing that happened when my period stopped was, I began to lose touch with time passing. Being retired now also contributes to the feeling of not knowing what day it is or even sometimes what year it is. Although, I must admit I went around for a whole year when I was 27 thinking I was 28, and having gone through perimenopause and getting old had no bearing on that. That wouldn’t begin happening for another 20 years, at least.

Something I enjoy about this time in my life is I don’t have to set my clock for anybody else. If I want to go to bed at midnight I can. If I want to get up at 5:30 in the morning I can.

Naps. Ah, I can take a nap anytime I want to. I absolutely love naps. The cats sleep with me, but that’s their job. Part of it. Cat naps.

I have a family history of diabetes on my mother’s side of the family. For all I know, it’s on my father’s side too, but we never really knew many of them. It was spoken of in hushed tones, much like alcoholics are talked about. “They did it to themselves.” Fat? You did it. You caused this. Because you are fat, you brought it on yourself. There are still a lot of people who look at overweight people like it was their fault. No, there’s more to it than that.

Flatulence. It can follow you around. You can be walking, just like you always have done, and air escapes. Phht…phht…phht…with every step. Imagine doing that in a library where people tend to be quiet. My husband does that in the house. He’s eight years older than I am. Perhaps it is something I can look forward to.

Something else that seems to be going on is I don’t need to eat much anymore. I can skip meals, I can barely eat anything, and does my weight go down? No. I should be skin and bones now, but I’m not. Someone, please talk to me about this.

I am weak. I used to be so strong. I could run. I could walk for miles. I could pick up heavy things. I could shift very heavy bookshelves across a room just by laying into them with my shoulder. I caught Covid and haven’t been the same since that time.

I have new colors on my skin. People call them age spots. Yep. Got those now. Do I cover them up with makeup? I don’t have enough money to do that. It’s who I am now.

I know that as time goes by and research into many things continues, more will be known about older folk.

We are still valuable members of society even though we don’t have jobs anymore, at least jobs that pay money.

I can teach you how to be a psychic. If you want to, it doesn’t happen right away. It can sometimes take years. It did with me. I just throw you into the water, knowing that you will float. By the way, my grandfather did that with my mother. She never did like to swim. That’s all I know about that. He threw her in the water to teach her how to swim. Who does shit like that? Evidently, my grandfather did.

Anyway, here are the things I can teach somebody. I can teach you how to get a job. I can teach you courage. I can teach you to be gentle. I can teach you to be brave. I can teach you to be fierce. I can teach you that not landing on your feet is not a disaster. It is part of learning. I can teach you to cook. I can teach you to be an artist. I can teach you how to pray. I can teach you that God listens.

The only way, I think, that I’m going to be able to do these things is to write. I don’t have children or even relatives who want to talk to me. They have washed their hands of me. Mostly, anyway.

I am at the point where I wait for the students to come. I don’t fret over it. Somewhere, somebody wants to know what I’ve seen. Maybe I’ll paint a picture with words.

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