by P. M. Montgomery

Created on: August 29, 2011

Reflections on turning 50.

50!  A half a century old.  I dreaded reaching that mark for so long.  In my mind, I kind of figured that everything was going to come to a screeching halt; my hair would begin to fall out, my skin would start wrinkling even worse than it all ready was, and I would become old overnight. 

Of course, none of that happened, but I was horrible to be around during the month before my 50th birthday.  I hate birthdays anyway.  Mine falls 11 days after Christmas and I always feel a little bit cheated in the gift department.  Everyone is broke and has nothing left over for a birthday present.  Then throw in the fact that I was turning 50 and everyone wanted to make a big gag out of it, I was just not looking forward to this birthday in particular.  I did not want a black cake with black balloons nor did I want any stupid presents wrapped in black paper.  I wanted to ignore this birthday and pretend it never happened. 

My family had other ideas.  My kids threw me a party complete with the black cake and balloons.  SIGH.  I also received a fake cane with a fake IV bag on it.  Oh, that lifted my spirits immensely!  I also got plenty of “funny” cards with the requisite “over the hill” messages on them from my sister and father.  I had to force a smile on my face and pretend I was so happy to be there and be humiliated.  Not my best day.

One would think that getting out of my forties would be a good thing.  I did not have a good decade in my forties.  I moved from a good career as an OR supervisor in a small rural hospital to working in the operating room in a large metropolitan hospital.  I quickly learned to hate my job.  Surgeons, at least most of the ones I came into contact with at that hospital, were not nice people.  It really made me sad to see the way they were allowed to treat the nurses there.  I gave up my career in the OR and went back to working on the Med-Surg floor.  I got sick in my forties and eventually had to give up my job as an RN for good.  That probably had a lot to do with my attitude on turning 50.  I was feeling like I couldn’t contribute to my home and family the way I was used to doing.  I felt useless. 

My husband and I went through a rough spot in our marriage before I turned 50.  We managed to work everything out but we were still in the process the year of my 50th.  Things were still unstable then and I could see myself alone and trying to start over at the age of 50.  No woman wants to have to do that ever, but after 50 or later, it just sounds terrible. 

As rocky as my life was when I turned 50, things have gotten so much better since then.  My hair didn’t fall out and my skin looks pretty darn good.  My marriage is probably the best it has ever been and I am very happy being a stay –at-home wife.  I still don’t like birthdays, but they haven’t quit coming and I haven’t found a way to stop them yet, so I keep having them.  Turning 50 was traumatic, but I survived.  Now I am going to just ignore the numbers and focus on how I feel.  When 60 comes along, I am going to be one smoking, hot Grandma!

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