Can I tell you how hard it is to be getting a divorce and turning sixty? It's a head trip of epic proportions. It's an ugly number from this vantage point. I didn't want to be on my own at this age but honestly, I always felt Bill wouldn't be around for me in my sixties. Of course, I thought he'd be dead, not living in the desert and taking me to the cleaners.
Here's the kicker, though. I look and feel better than I have in decades. My sister says leaving Bill has taken fifteen years off my face. She and Dad were looking at family pictures this week and for each one she'd say, "Cindy looks better now than she did in that one. She looks better now than she did in THAT one. She looks better now than in THAT one." And so it went. I hadn't thought how one could look better at sixty than at forty or fifty---or thirty, for that matter---but after thinking about it, I tend to agree. So, that's a dilemma in a way. I like myself more now than I ever have. I accept myself, warts and all, more now than ever before. I accept and am happy with the person I've become. I'm even beginning to accept the two failed marriages and my part in their demise. I think I'm smart, funny, pretty and fun. But turning sixty, having that number tacked on my head, is a trip. The other part is the ongoing battle with the voices in my head, and turning sixty gives them ammo. I still don't want to really date. My counselor says my descriptions of my attitude toward the dating issue still say I'm not ready. No, she says, I'm not emotionally damaged. I'm exhausted from being Bill's wife and not ready to jump back in. Ah, but the voices say, "For crying out loud! You're sixty!! Get on it before your face and your boobs hit the floor!!" But the little quiet and stubborn me says, "I don't want to." "Well, when, then? Give me a date! When are you going to get on it?" "I don't know, and I don't like thinking of how having a man in my life might impact my spontaneity and my sense of freedom." The unrelenting voice tells me to get on with it or I might fall of the face of the earth---because it's apparently flat----- while the stubbornly emerging me refuses to commit to giving an answer. It's a neverending argument. Tough. Deal with it.
I hadn't celebrated my birthday with a party since I was 43. After such a long time I was ready to do something. I had trouble focusing on what kind of party to have and when. My birthday was on the Thursday before the Fourth of July weekend. I knew that weekend was out. Oddly enough though, some neighbors decided to get married in their newly-remodeled backyard and have a three-day wedding celebration complete with band, catered food, and valet parking----another reason why it was good I stayed away from the weekend. I decided having it on the actual birth day was best. Then I had to decide who to invite. Friends? Couples? A potpourri of everyone I know and work with? I finally honed in on women. I wanted the women in my life, my coterie of friends, to celebrate the occasion with me. And so it was. I invited twenty-some women who in one way or another, have impacted my life. I tossed around the idea of standing up and telling each one why she had had an impact on me but in the end I made a decision to give a blanket speech that would cover the reasons in general without putting anyone on the spot.
Laura and I bought party decorations. We decided on a Sweet Sixteen theme and took the final 'n' off everything. I wanted to mimic a traditional Sweet Sixteen party as much as I could so the colors were mainly pink and white---but we threw in some black; it seemed fitting. We had pink plastic martini glasses, pink plates, black napkins, white tablecloths, pink, black and white streamers and banners, pink shot glasses and 'silver' utensils. I had four tables and we got chairs from church. We started with veggie and cheese plates, then for dinner we had grilled chicken, green bean bake (not that stuff with the onion rings but from a great recipe I learned from a little Armenian lady who passed down her recipes to me because she had no daughters or grandchildren), Caesar salad, and garlic mashed potatoes. For dessert I got a half-sheet 'princess' birthday cake from Costco with 'Happy Sweet Sixtee, Cindy' on it. Did you know they serve 48 and only cost $17.99? It was a white cake with buttercream frosting and cream cheese filling. We also had toothpick candles that spelled out 'Sweet Sixtee' It's been sitting on the counter for five days now and it's still incredible---and I don't really like cake all that much.
It all started at 6:00. Twenty three women came. It was a collection of some of the finest females on the planet. It went so smoothly I can't remember much of the evening, only that everyone had plenty to eat and drink and it was, for me, delightful. We played a game Jessica likes and led where everyone introduces themselves, tells how they know me, and what they like best about me. It was a sweet idea on her part but I did get a little uncomfortable. Beth later brought up the recurring themes, and I had noticed them too. The words most used to describe me were 'kind, non-judgmental, good listener, positive, good attitude, bubbly, thoughtful'. At least that's how I heard them. And there were the comments about my memory, of course, because it can erroneously lead someone to believe I'm wicked smart,(but I'm not). Hearing all this was actually very good for me; it helped me learn how others see me. But I was a little uncomfortable. If I had run the game, I would have also asked them to say what they thought was my worst quality. I need to know that too. Then we played a game where you draw a card, read the question on it, and answer. It could get slightly off-color but my girls handled it well. Finally I opened gifts, and by 11:00 we were done. My sister, Beth, came down but my sister, Sue, couldn't get off of her work. Two friends were ill and couldn't make it. Otherwise most people were able to make it.
The gifts were all great, beautiful, in fact. I am a lucky woman to have such incredible friends. I have male friends, too, some of whom are outrageously wonderful, but I will just have to find another way to celebrate with them. This one was for the girls. They deserved it in more ways than they will ever know.
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