Making the old lady proud

I’m turning *cough*ty years old. A milestone birthday. It bothers me less than most people assume. 26 bothered me. Realizing I was closer to 30 than 21 freaked me out. Not because of the number, but because I thought I’d be further along in my life at 26 than I actually was. No career, no exotic adventures, I hadn’t met anyone who could be husband material. My life was not moving anywhere close to the path I dreamed when I was younger. I was in a job I hated and back living with my parents. So no, this birthday is nothing compared to 26.

I just realized how long ago that birthday was. Maybe I should be freaked.

I love the song “Dear Younger Me” by MercyMe. It reflects on all the things you would have told your younger self. Or would you have? Because all those things brought you here and made you, you. It’s fun to reflect on the privilege of 20/20 hindsight. But when I hear the song, I think of what future me would tell present me.

The old lady rocking the gray hair. What would she say to her younger self who tries to ignore the wiry white hairs springing from her scalp refusing to give in to the temptation of a Miss Clairol bottle?

Is she thankful we quit smoking? Did we quit soon enough? Does she still miss it?

Is she kicking my ass for sleeping in instead of working out? Or would she be telling me to go ahead and cancel that BeachBody membership? Is she telling me to give up on the dreams of abs or that we finally get control over our issues with food? What advice would she give me so that I can keep up with our kids? Our grandkids?

What does she wish I would have done in our marriage? Did I do enough? Enough love, time, service? Too much? Nagging, nitpicking, fighting? What would she ask me to do today so we can have a good marriage in her days?

Did I do enough in my career? Or was it a waste? Should I have gone home instead of working late or did all the stress, tears, and anxiety pay off? Did any of it matter?

How badly did I screw up my kids? Was I too tough? Not tough enough? Did I yell too much? Did I ever learn to not yell so much? Did I cuddle them enough? Are they proud to have me as a mother? How can I survive the teenage years?

Is she still a clean freak or would she tell me to put the dust rag down? Maybe they did create an award for cleanest baseboards and we’re a three-time champion.

Did I keep and grow my friendships? Or did I let my introvert nature push everyone away? If I’m alone, am I lonely?

Did I use the right moisturizer? I started wearing face lotion with SPF 30 when I was 15 and anti-wrinkle cream before I left my 20’s. Was it worth it or is eye cream a scam?

Should I have stayed and fought harder? Should I have jumped ship sooner?

Did I expect too much or not ask for enough?

Are we ready to meet God?

The choices I make today will impact that old lady and I don’t want to look back at this life and be filled with regrets. So many of the choices I look back on with my 20/20 hindsight that I regret the most are decisions I made at the time for instant gratification. What appeased my chaos for the moment. But days, weeks, years later they snowballed into decisions that caused immense grief, pain, struggle. That old lady future me deserves better.