Pro tip: if you nearly white out your face through overexposure, you don’t see your developing wrinkles. But warning, you may blind anyone scrolling through your feed.  You can also inject yourself with your own blood plasma for a fresh-faced appearance.  I don’t know if I’m yet ready for the “vampire facial” quite yet, but it certainly does sound fascinating and I do like the idea of my own body helping out my body.  We should always be a friend to ourselves…

On a related note, my sis showed me a letter our mom wrote our dad in 1990 when he was turning 50 that he had saved and she found amongst his collected belongings.  They had both passed in 2021, her from a very painful battle with the very shitty disease ALS in February, and him in June from septic pneumonia, and, quite possibly, a broken heart.  It was a beautifully written piece and quite sweet and adoring, which was surprising to me, since they did not have the ideal relationship. He was a grumpy Vietnam vet, wounded both physically and mentally, and my mom was his enabling default target upon which he tried to shoot his sad arrows of pain.  What was more surprising, as I read on, was that it sounded more like she was speaking to us (my sister and me) in the future.  This is perhaps an indication of my self-involvement, her intention on us to find and read this some day, or a combination of both.  

She had turned 50 in January and this was November of that year, so she felt she had the upper hand to navigate that milestone birthday and wanted to share some of her learned wisdom.  She spoke of the erroneous misperception of the cause of the Mid Life Crisis as being failed dreams.  She was referencing the young adult dreams of life, not of the sexy night emission variety or the kid dream of being President of the US and a firefighter and astronaut all at the same time, but the realistic dreams we have when we are, say, 25.  

But she makes an excellent point: and I quote, “…which dreams are we talking about? If one has the same dreams that one had at 25, that would indicate to me a static view of life—a personality that has not grown, a life which has not evolved. In fact, as we look honestly at our lives, we see dreams, ambitions, goals which are constantly evolving as our understanding of life expands.  The point is that there is no set day or even year when one can say ‘I failed to achieve that,’ because you are already talking about the past, and that is yesterday’s news, bearing not on the realities and hopes of today. Each day is a day to analyze where you are and where you want to go. This constant evolution is why there is eternal hope…..”

She goes on to say that nothing has really ended, except the youthfulness of our bodies, and for that we all compensate as best we can, slowing the inevitable deterioration of our bodies with “healthy habits and positive attitudes.”  I do think she was also referring to her favourite Lancome beauty products, since Botox was only just on the horizon and vampire facials would have sounded as crazy as “tweeting” your thoughts on a tiny computer you carry around in your pocket or Donald Trump being our president (some little boys’ ridiculous dreams really do come true).  She acknowledges that none of it is easy, if real growth is to take place.  That growth and evolution come from constant problem-solving and obligation meeting and that without these things, the future would be terrifying.  

I think what she is saying, in her more eloquent way, is that you must continue to “show up” and even reinvent the way that you show up.  She separates this from the pure joys in life: “the shared memories of a couple of decades together, the fresh scent of country air on a cool northern California night, the crazy antics of a hyperactive puppy, the enveloping hug from a precious daughter,” and points out that perhaps these joys are more treasurable because the rest of the time we are working to solve problems and–not her words exactly–Get Shit Done.  She wonders if life never contained evolving goals and the obstacles that emerge along the way, would we even notice these simple joys?  Turning 50, she says, is really no different than any other major birthday, and ponders about the 30 year old who is metaphorically older than she is, simply because they decided to stop growing.  My mom, by the way, started her master’s degree in French right around this time.  It took her to Angé in the Loire Valley of France, where she rented out a room in some woman’s cottage and carried her books to school every day like she was a little girl all over again, just a lot of life lived and a lot wiser now.

My mom ends the letter with this: 

I have had a few months of it now [being 50 yrs old] and have learned to look only at the present and the future, and not in the mirror. As long as I avoid the mirror, I feel like I always have: interested and excited about life and my future. I have not changed in my willingness to grow and meet challenges. Maybe with more exercise and sleep and a good haircut I could even meet the mirror challenge!  Who knows? There is always hope in the future…I believe we will always do better tomorrow than we did today.”

I am not 50 yet but getting ever closer. I loved this reminder to always be reinventing my dreams and myself.  I am a veterinarian, who also became a mom, who became a stepmom, who became an vet emergency director, who loves to write, to learn how to play a less shitty ukulele, to learn how to keep bees (and not get constantly stung), to learn how to surf slightly bigger waves, to dream of a future with my second husband/ love of my life. Tomorrow will bring a new dream and a new challenge I can curse about but feel proud in my efforts to achieve it.   I am thankful for this found treasure from my mom who was beyond wise and beautiful in her optimism, pragmatism and eloquence.  I am also thankful to my sister for finding and showing me this letter and I repaid her by stealing it and also telling her I was positive I was the “precious daughter” Mom referenced whose hugs brought her joy.