No Gifts Please...I Got Mine 42 years Ago

Try as one might, there is no defying the effects of gravity on the aging process. Sure, you can spend your children’s inheritance on any variety of “procedures” to be plumped, tucked and altered into an often unrecognizable version of your former self. In my case, there is no inheritance to spend! But even if I could, I am not sure I would take drastic measures to try and regain my youthful glow – or would I? I’ll save that for a future post. For now, I have my fountain of youth – my husband – who still makes me feel as if I am the most beautiful woman in the world, every single day.

Have I mentioned that I love my husband? He and I met in high school – Senior English to be exact – when he was into muscle cars and I was into folk music, college boys and the peace movement. We did not have a lot in common in those days and I’m sure he had no idea who I was. But I knew him – he was POPULAR! When I walked into the already seated classroom and passed by his desk to give my transfer papers to the teacher, he noticed ME! Bookish, shy, want-to-be-in-the-background Paula. The very next day, his desk was next to mine – he had a way with teachers, and managed to convince her that he needed to be at the front of the room in order to see better! From that moment 42 years ago, we were friends. We attended senior class functions together as friends. We counseled each other through different relationships and headed off to different colleges. It wasn’t until two years later, with only occasional contact in the interim, that we realized our friendship had blossomed into something more. I could go on about our story, but I’ll cut to the chase – we met in 1968, started dating in 1971, got engaged in 1972, and married in 1974. And in July we will celebrate 37 years of love and friendship as husband and wife.

We are both turning 60 this year. In fact, for six weeks he will be in his 60’s and I will still be in my 50’s. I always use these weeks to remind him that he is older than me! For him, this is simply another birthday. No drama, no angst. Just a birthday with the obligatory cards, a gift or two (his gifts of choice - socks and ties…really??), his favorite dinner and dessert, and a nice gathering of family and friends. Over. Done. Move on. He deserves some attention for his 60 year milestone, yet he has had to take on all of my anxiety and is watching over me as if I am a delicate Faberge egg – handling me with care as I attempt to wrap my head around our entry into senior citizenship. If there were an Oscar for Outstanding Achievement in the Husband Role, he would be a recipient.

I deal with the physical reminders of aging every time I glance into my 8X magnifying mirror (ugh). I see almost-60 Paula. He, on the other hand, sees me through a different lens. In his eyes I am still 17year old Paula who walked into English class and caught his attention. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t get some sort of acknowledgement that I am beautiful in his eyes. I don’t want to give TMI here (my kids read this!) but my husband still thinks I’m hot!

It’s becoming clear to me that one of the biggest advantages of knowing someone for 42 years is the magic of their internal lens – our mind’s eye imprints the original “photograph” of that first encounter indelibly and forever. To each other we are still crazy kids in love. We see past the gray hair (his, not mine – thanks to my stylist and his magic potions), the age spots (can’t I still call them freckles?), and the oh-so-unattractive turkey neck wattle! Turning 60 with my best friend is the only gift I need to mark this momentous occasion.  Well, that....and maybe a Faberge egg!