I want My Own Middle Age Crazy - I'm Entitled!

I Want My Own Middle Age Crazy – I’m Entitled!

I Want My Own Middle Age Crazy! I’m entitled. It’s just not fair. My husband went to Africa on Safari when he turned 50. He’s purchased countless motorcycles, boats and “Big Boy Toys”. My brother-in-law surprised my sister with his new Harley motorcycle. A friend of mine convinced her husband to sell everything they own and move to a condo on a beach in California, and she even changed her name. You go girl. I Want My Own Middle Age Crazy!

Women and men alike divorce spouses of many years to embark on “finding themselves.” They’re looking for a whole new exciting life. I’m pretty happy with my life of marriage and kids and work. I don’t feel the need to “find myself”, or do I?

My 50th year of life has been traumatic. I/we have become empty nesters. That, in itself can set couples off in different directions of compatibility, but we’ve embraced it. I was ready for the end of chaos, but I was wrong, it just changes to a different kind of chaos when the kids are gone.

The calendar year began with two moves, one to the empty nest stage and then one to a new home that was still in stages of remodeling. Packing, packing, packing, boxes, boxes, boxes, oh my aching back. It was getting to the point that boxes were being stuffed without thought. The hubby was on a rampage to fix the house we were living in to sell. After the #2 kid was transferred halfway across the United States, we made a short move to another bedroom in a smaller bed while we prepared to sell our house. That was fun, not.

The stress and strain were there but we handled it fairly well. A quick trip to visit the #2 kid with the #1 kid in tow was in order, even though I knew the move to the new house was immediate when we returned. The spur of the moment visit was marred with a phone call from the husband. Our best friend of many years died suddenly. Wham! I was hit between the eyes with a reality check on how precarious our lives are. But, I didn’t have time to let that reality soak in much.

Shortly after this tragedy my dear mother started going downhill. Daddy just couldn’t care for her at home anymore. My brother, sister and I were thrust into the difficult web of nursing homes, Medicare, health insurance, skilled nursing care, funeral plans, caskets, cemetery plots, concrete vaults vs steel, broken hips, feeding tubes, living wills, DNR’s, and many middle of the night phone calls. There were lots of tears and talk, hugs and decisions all with the blessings of our father. During all of this stress and tension I turned 50, very quietly. We also lost our four-legged companion of 12 years. How much more can I tolerate, well, a little more is my guess.

Wednesday, July 26 at approximately 2:25 pm I sat at my mother’s bedside and watched as she took her last quiet breaths. My heart was breaking but I was also relieved that she was not struggling anymore.

What a 50th year I’ve had. I wanted a birthday party. I wanted to go to a two week spa. I wanted a sports car. (I did get the house of my dreams…excuse me, “We” did). I wanted a hoopla. I got tears, heartache, and just plain sadness.

This has been my tale to tell of my search for a Middle Age Crazy. I haven’t had time for the expected crazy decisions I “should” be making since I’m now 50. I’m now an official member of AARP and if my dear husband buys himself another “Big Boy Toy”, well, then I’m just going to have to retaliate somehow.