I am poised to reenter the working world, five and a half years after leaving to raise my daughter. I had my first legal job at age 15, a job I kept for three years. I moved out of my mother's house at 17 and had been supporting myself ever since. The transition from working, independent woman to stay-at-home-mom was not a smooth one. I don't think I ever really adjusted to it. I'm not very good at letting others "take care of me." My partner is an unsung saint.
On Friday I had my first "official" interview in 16 years. It felt huge. I walked out excited and slightly manic, bristling with energy that felt almost electric. I am excited and also fearful, that after so many years, I have gotten out of the habit of daily work, but also eager to feel like I am making an impact in the world.
Here I am, intending to write about something else and this topic snakes its way in, while I have no time to really explore it and so much more to ruminate and write on. So I set it aside, for an unnamed later date, that hopefully I will be able to revisit and explore more thoroughly.
“When you're 50 you start thinking about things you haven't thought about before. I used to think getting old was about vanity -- but actually it's about losing people you love. Getting wrinkles is trivial.” ~ Joyce Carol Oates
This quote was passed on by my friend Sylvia and it resonates for me today. While I am not yet 50, it rings true on the eve of 45 just as much.
Today I am going to a memorial for an amazing man who lost a battle to cancer. Another friend battles leukemia nearby. My sister has just had surgery with unforeseen complications in another state and I feel helpless here. I am recovering from pneumonia and the weeks I have been ill and the slow recuperation have only succeeded in mirroring my own mortality.
Our bodies are one-use-only units. Life is precious and we take it for granted.
In forty minutes I leave for Tomales and the memorial. A shower beckons. More soon...I hope.
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