Part 6 The End

Too Old for a Mid-Life Crisis; Too Young for Medicare

Part VI

The night of the class reunion finally arrived. I was sick to my stomach.

“Maybe I can call and tell them I have the flu,” I said to Derek as I looked at myself in the mirror for the twentieth time. “No, make that the Asian flu.”

“Don’t be silly,” Derek replied. “You look fine.”

“Fine! I can’t go looking fine! I gotta look spectacular! These women are vicious. Remember what happened when Wanda failed to attend the last reunion? She got elected president of the food committee. And she doesn’t cook!”

“Then why do you want to go?” Derek gave an exasperated sigh.

“Because they’re my friends and I haven’t seen them in ages.” Men! They don’t understand us women at all.

“Misty, how are you?” I exclaimed when Derek and I walked into the high school gym. She looked just like she did when we graduated. Except maybe fifty pounds heavier, one-hundred percent grayer and about two inches shorter.

Misty introduced us to her husband, Morty, a used car salesman. While he tried selling Derek a car, Misty and I huddled in the corner, catching up.

“Have you seen Karen Morales?” Misty looked in the direction of a woman who was thinner than the kids in my workout videos. I didn’t think that was possible. In high school she was recruited as a shot putter for the track team. (The football coach would have gone after her if they hadn’t had rules against girls playing contact sports back in those days.)

She was flirting with Justin Marks, the former captain of our basketball team.

“What’s up with her?” I whispered.

“She’s been reading self-help books. The last one was ‘Celebrating Your Future, Forgetting Your Past,’ by Carla Dinsmore.

“Really?” I wondered. I could use that book. I definitely would like to forget most of my past, namely high school.

Pulling up a chair, Gennifer Jester joined our little gabfest.\

“I have to confess,” Gennifer said. “I read that book last month. It’s fabulous. It’ll change your life!”

Gennifer had been head cheerleader and dated the captain of the football team. She was senior class secretary. Gennifer was so popular, a zit dared not erupt on her face.

 That did it! If Gennifer read it then I had to have that book. I tapped Karen on the shoulder. “Psst,” I hissed. “I hear you have a book that’s making the rounds. How can I get it?”

Karen gestured for me to follow her to the women’s bathroom. After checking the stalls to make sure we were alone, she dug into her purse and pulled out the book. It was in a brown paper wrapper.

“It’ll change your life!” Karen assured me.

I stuffed it under my jacket and snuck it out to the car.

That night after Derek and the kids were in bed, I cracked it open.

Dr. Dinsmore started this way:

‘In order to be a better person today, one can not dwell on the past. One must learn to let it go.’

I definitely vote for letting go.

‘Re-invent yourself. Think back to what you wanted to be when you were grown up. No one ever said I want to be unpopular, fat, lonely, unsuccessful.’

Great! Do you think I’m too old to start over? I asked my mirror.

I swear my mirror laughed at me.

I sat down in the middle of the floor of the den and, cross-legged, meditated on the subject of letting go of the past and embracing the future. I guess the present takes care of itself.

Breathing slowly, in – out, in – out, I felt my pulse slow and I relaxed.

What would I be if I could re-invent myself? Would I be an actress? A lawyer? Crocodile hunter?

Can you picture that? Crikey, look at that beauty, I’d say to the crowd, who were all awed by my skill. Yeah, right.

I’ve got a great husband, wonderful children and a houseful of grandchildren I can tattle on my children to. No, I don’t think I’d change a thing.

My advice? Throw away all the self-help books. It’ll change your life!

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