Saturday, December 15, 2012

I want to feel giddy.


I have said before that,
apart from the inexorable progression towards death,
I am comfortable with getting older.

I am 44 next month
which I guess pretty much places me in the "mid forties" category.
It doesn't mean much more to me than turning 43 did.
I have more grey hairs, 
I am a bit more saggier and baggier than last year,
and I suspect, judging by the increased effort required by my knees for some Zumba moves,
my joints certainly feel like like they are 44,
if not older.

But you know what?
I am missing those giddy feelings.

Those feelings of your tummy churning, your heart racing,
maybe your cheeks flushing as you breathe a little bit faster.
I am not talking about menopausal feelings.
I am talking about those times where, at least just for a moment, you feel just so happy to be alive
and that all is good with the world.

They are different for everyone.
Sometimes they are big moments.
Sometimes just tiny ones.

That moment  when someone you had a crush on held your hand
or someone you loved kissed you
for the very first time.

The day you opened the envelope to find good exam results
or the offer for that job that you really wanted.

The time you stood at the top of the bridge ready to bungee jump.

That first glimpse of your spouse-to-be on your wedding day.

The time you finally found the best coffee gelati in the world. 

The moment you shared with your partner when that little baby arrived in your life.

Those giddy times are often first times.
But I have realised recently how much less frequent they are as you get older.

Weeing on a stick and waiting to see if you really have a little person growing inside you makes you giddy
but taking a sample to check your bowel health isn't.

Writing the guest list for your 21st or your wedding day fills you with oh-so-much anticipation.
but designing invites for your 50th birthday isn't quite as euphoric.

Breast-feeding your little one at 2am when the rest of the world seems to be asleep
fills your heart with love.
Helping your children deal with life and its stresses
fills you with worry.

A friend of mine,
a lady of similar age with young children,
has just been diagnosed with cancer.

I am pissed off with the world in general right now.
This is happening to someone young and someone who is one of the good people in this world
and it shits me at how unfair it is.

I have realised that there are going to be more times like this in my future
and that these moments are more than likely going become more frequent.

I know that there are still giddy times ahead.

A lot will be the firsts as a parent as my children grow and blossom
and make their own way, discover their own tummy-churning moments.

But they wont be so many of them
and they wont all be my own
and maybe they need to be sought out.

But I am going to embrace them and cherish each and every one of them.