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Mon 24 Mar, 2003 11:17 am
On Turning Sixty
The three-month-old baby being passed around and admired was finally nestled in my arms, the feeling as natural as it had been so many years ago when my sons were born.
When he turned his head to my breast I thought, "Sweet baby,
you've come to a dry well," and I passed him back to his mother to nurse; but I remembered, long ago, spinning a gossamer cocoon, filled with soft golden light.
I could hear the creak of the rocking chair, the soft sounds of suckling, breathing and the hum of a lullabye. There were the smells of warm milk and sweet, soft baby skin and the feel of silky hair as I brushed it back from his forehead. There was a perfect communion with this small creature who had been inside me for nine months. We already knew and loved each other and now my body had adapted, to continue to nourish him and help him thrive.
That cocoon of sweet contentment was a place untouched by time, filled with love and serenity.
These memories flashed through my mind as I passed the baby back to his mother and I thought with awe of what a woman's body is capable of, the changes it can go through to provide life and nourishment.
Those years have passed, replaced with raising a family, working and the drudgery, pain, pleasure and tragedies of day to day life and marriage. My sons are grown and now feel rather protective of me. That other world is a cherished, golden memory.
I remember all the women I have been to arrive at the woman I am, no longer fertile, but still productive, filled with wisdom and understanding.
As I look forward to the next phase of my life, I am filled with curiosity and anticipation, enjoying a freedom never available to me when I was younger.
As always and forever, I love being a woman, filled with the sweet vibrance of being truly alive.
Your story Diane reminds me of my own daughter's first few months. Her helplesness and her natural instincts. She was bottle fed and I got a lot of paternal pleasure out of feeding her.
Watching a baby grow and taking care of her/his needs is a very rewarding experience.
Thank you John. Posting on Original Writing is far scarier than even I imagined!
No need to be scared Diane. That was a fine bit of writing. I can relate as a father of four now also sixty. I hope to see some more of your work on here.
Edgar, kind words indeed. Being sixty is really sort of nice, isn't it?
Ah, Diane.
How perfectly lovely. Nothing is more cleansing than composing. It somehow solidifies the memories and the expectations into a cameo worth more than an heirloom. Keep it up, Di. and here's a little birthday tribute:
Each passing day brings us new notions,
Each waning mood, lunar potions.
So have a potion or two and
And remember the children as they grew.
(Then you'll be damned glad you have gotten all that over with)
Actually, being 60 is a lot nicer than I had thought. We're not all broken down after all.
That's very lovely, Diane. While I don't have any children, I can very well relate to what you are saying about being a woman. And to looking forward to the next phase of your life. I turned 41 three weeks ago and I think it is a very exciting age.
I can't wait to meet you in person.
Gautam. thank you for the Wow!
Letty, I am already glad that part of my life is over; lovely as it was, I have no desire to repeat the experience!
Notions and lunar potions sound absolutely delightful--let's look for some in cocoa Beach. We'll take Urs along and find some notions and potions for her to enchant BigD with--won't he be a happy boy?
:wink:
Fine job Diane!
Although I have no children, I can understand it as a woman and about the changes of women in general...how old will I be when I no longer see that child with the pigtails staring back at me, or at least expecting it
Grand journey to you! I see you have traveled well already, and its great to know the trip just keeps on going...obviously to just get better. May you encounter many more.
Oh yes Diane. Let's do that! :-)
Quinn, you doll, the trip does continue and it does keep getting better. Women have that ability to adapt, to follow odd paths, perhaps because our bodies have already taught us how.
Urs, a shopping we will go and oh what fun we'll have. :wink:
Diane--I'm reminded of a question a friend asked his mother. They were at his younger brother's college graduation when he turned to his mother and asked, "When do they stop looking so young." She smiled knowingly and replied, "They don't."
I'm reminded of those words every summer when the college students who work in my building return. I remember how "young" and uncertain I was at that age and teke pleasure in the fact that I'll never have to repeat those years, but look back on them fondly. Your piece encourages me to look ahead with a sense of adventure.
Terry, thank you! It is an adventure!
I would never have thought, especially twenty or more years ago, that turning sixty would be so much fun.
Now that I'm 62 I can look back on 60 with a good deal of nostalgia. However, 62 is good also.
Sixty five is pretty good too. I am at the point where I can talk not only about "the good old days", but the good days that lie ahead!
How nice to see a few new posts. I was actually trying to find the rain forest thread and spotted my old thread with new posts.
Since I met Dys last year, at sixty, my perception has changed to include: "Life Begins at Sixty!" The past year has been something I would never have dreamed could happen to me. For the first time in my life, I have known real love and what it is like to be loved and treasured and respected by someone whom I love more than life itself.
Life is sweeter than anything I could have imagined.
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