Most of my friends have their mothers at eighty or more
but my mom died at fifty-six
her mom in childbirth at thirty
my great grandmother an early death at forty-four.
I’ve passed each of their milestones and stand at the age of sixty-two
scanning the horizon for something other than an early death
but how do I fill the hours with something that creates purpose
rather than hanging like an overripe fruit from a rotting tree?
When I look around I see
many older women somewhat befuddled
waiting for something but don't know what.
Some try to recapture their adolescence
and go from one party to the next,
singing in choirs and having lots of sex.
Others try to hang on to their jobs
pretending to do them as well as they could
but most seemed lost
not having fully defined what’s possible
to make aging worth their while.
I find myself in daily prayer,
supplications to a very busy god
asking protection for those closest to me
expressing gratitude for the
multitude of blessings
and hoping, like Betty White,
to score a Snicker's contract
before I'm through.
No comments:
Post a Comment