Post Midlife

I was admiring the sunstreaks in my ash blonde hair when I realized that they weren’t sunstreaks at all but WHITE hair!   White hair.  As in Barbara Bush big old helmet of white. That’s one more landmark on the road to mortality. 

I’ve been counting up things that I know now that I will never do.  Sort of a negative bucket list.  I mean there are things that I can do despite my advanced age. 

For example, I learned how to ride a boogie board last summer.  Kind of.  Not so I would do it anywhere but on a deserted beach, but passable enough to feel the pull of the wave and end up closer to shore without a snout full of the Gulf.

The other night before the Stanley Cup play-offs there was a show about amateur hockey leagues.  Women’s amateur hockey leagues.  And there are women who play ice hockey for fun.  Really.

Not that I can ice skate.  I can’t even roller skate.  I tried to learn. When my daughter was 5, I took her to the skating rink and rented skates for myself.  I clung to the outside bar, inching my way around the rink, as I listened to the taunts and encouragements from the 5-8 year olds who were sailing past me. 

But the idea of duking it out on the ice is attractive to me.

I could have been a contender! 

Maybe boxing?  That could be a new post midlife (IS post midlife really old age?) sport for me. 

Better stick to the boogie board.

About texasgaga

I am a mom, a grandmom (Gaga to my 2nd oldest grand-child), a sister, a friend, a construction estimator, a homeowner, an active member of a 12 step recovery group, an artist, a reader, a survivor, a do it yourself wannabe, a laugher
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