Part of me has for quite some time lamented the passing of time. Or more to the point, lamenting the loss of my youth. Having the natural blush in one’s cheeks being replaced with make-up, knowing that not going to the hair dressers will show my age in a matter of weeks, due to the ever-increasing amount of grey growing in. Seeing fine lines starting to form from years of pouting the lips together to inhale on a cancer stick. Those “laugh lines?” Look more like wrinkles each passing year.  Knowing you are in your desired dress size, but still, they don’t quite fit like when you were 21. On occasion I may allow myself to dwell on the downside, more to get my butt in gear to minimize the downside of forty-something.

BUT, the unexpected surprise that comes with forty-something? I have passed the age where I matter. At least in society’s love affair with youth. I’m free to wear whatever I like, whenever I like. I’m not tied to the latest trends, which go out as often as one changes their underwear.

I can be as flamboyant, as eccentric or eclectic in dress as I chose to be, and it doesn’t matter. Freedom of age. I aspire to one day head up one of my own Red Hat Society ladies groups who wander the town in the purple outfiits with red hats, lunching here and lunching there. And not caring who is staring or wondering why all those “old ladies” are wandering around in public with overly ornate and bright red hats.

With forty-something comes the freedom to just be. To enjoy the simpler aspects in life that in the earlier years I was running and moving too fast to notice. The blue skies, a perfect rose and a sunset that can take your breath away. Standing as an observer of youth, watching as a Jr. High boy, with love in his face gives his “girlfriend” a peck on the cheek as she rides away in her mother’s car.

There are times I go to pick my daughter Tayler up, where I have to wait for her to get things together and get herself out to the van. I use this time to really look into the faces of youth and see all their possiblities, sometimes their hopes written all over their faces. And at times, see the distinctly famalier look of depression that comes with puberty. I take those moments to pray for that particular young person.

Reminding my daughter and her girlfriend Heather that a smile and a sincere “Hi” to one of their “outcast” labeled classmates may do more for this person that they will ever know. I remind them that once school is over for them, all the social norms and labels that are in play in school become nothing in the real world. It may very well fall on deaf ears, but maybe, just maybe, they will run into a classmate who desperately needs a contact, or connection, and they will provide it.

Forty-something provides me with some confidence to try and reach out in love, with a simple smile and hello. A polite “Thank you” to the frazzled cashier who may have the world on her shoulders trying to bring a working living in to her family.

Forty-something is stopping to smell the roses. My opportunity to connect with various individuals, simply by making eye contact and smiling. With age comes the realization that connecting with individuals, instead of indifferently walking by, provides me with more blessings and a sense of well being, than any amont of parties or uppity social clubs ever could.

God’s commandment to all of us was to “love one another.” Forty something is realizing that loving one another means more than what may be safely tucked away in our hearts. It means bringing it out and proudly parading it. Putting actions to our feelings, compassion and words.

It doesn’t always work. There are times your warm and sincere “hello” will be met with indifference if not downright rude dismissal. Forty-something says it doesn’t matter. For every five rude and indifferent individuals, that one, whose face will light up, just by being acknowledged makes it worth it.

Our city of Mesa is seeing a shocking spike in teenage suicides. Standing by indifferently, and doing nothing is not a solution. All of us need to reach out to these kids, whatever form it may take. We start one at a time. With ourselves, and our children. Teaching them manners, politeness and how to treat their fellow students in the face of a growing epidemic of indifference. We’re losing precious lives to the epidemic of indifference and rude behavior.

The symptoms are all around us. On the roads where “road-rage” is the rule and not the exception. People running around stores at a rat-race pace, bumping into one another like mice in a maze, with not so much as an “excuse me.”

Changing our times can start with us. The forty-somethings raising teenagers. Involving ourselves in their lives and the lives of their friends. Reaching out with unconditional love, and learning how to really listen to what they are saying.

Forty something for me is learning to slow down and make a difference, one person at a time. Changing the signs of the times cannot be done through government legislation, it cannot be done alone by our overworked and under-staffed school systems. It takes all of us, one un-noticed kind act or connection at a time.

The freedom of forty-something is realizing the power of a smile and human connection. I’m learning that true inner peace and happiness comes from these acts of kindness and love. Taking (what used to be perceived as risk) steps to reach out to one another.

The vanity lost to age, being replaced with loving one another, far outweighs any perceived loss of youth. I’m learning to love the freedom of forty-something!

Love,

3T