Ageism

Age of discovery.

Age of reason.

Age of Aquarius.

I just turned 43. What age is that? It’s not the age of presents. All I got this year were two cards.

Age of self-discovery?

No. I reached that when I turned 14. I’m 43. I’ve had ages of self-discovery since then.

I think if I were married 43 years they’d call it the age of miracles. My parents didn’t make marriage last 43 years. Yeah, I see the bulb flickering over your head. You’ve reached the age of enlightenment: They’re divorced.

They’re also both remarried and quite happy. That’s cuz they’re not remarried to each other. Welcome to the age of second chances.

I’m hoping I learned as much as they did from the age of first chances. I want my age of the Pirate Queen to be the age of wonder they seem to share. Oh, I know it’s not ages of wine and roses, but loving somebody enough to stick through the dark ages, I want that. That’s something to celebrate.

As I celebrated my age of 43 years last weekend I did the math. I don’t know that I’ll know 43 years of marriage to the Pirate Queen. I found that a little disheartening. Not because I thought I’d die too soon. I know when my time comes I’ll be old, senile and semi-incontinent.

Welcome to the age of depends.

Cow cards: this years Angry Birds.

No, I found it disheartening because when I go to church, I see old couples who’ve stayed together longer than color and TV. I’m a prideful stubborn person. I believe that should be me.

And yet it isn’t me…because I’m a prideful stubborn person. Now all I can hope for is whatever time I have left with the woman I love.

Don’t get me wrong. This isn’t Rob’s age of fatalism. I’ve got a lot of life left—I think the Pirate Queen will be praying for a little less Age of Rob--and I plan on spending that age with the woman I love. I just regret that her time will be without my firstca 40 years of….we’ll call it “Rob education.”

And she’s not even starting with my best years. I know me. She’s getting me at 43. I’m obnoxious. I’m stoic (or stodgy, depending on how your dictionary spells it). I’m a freelance writer—emphasis on the free. She’s getting the Rob age of Mystery.

And that makes me love her more. She sees all the ages of Rob. She knows where I’ve come from. She knows where I am, and she’s not frightened by where I’m going. Nor is she’s blinded. She’s spotted the Rob behind the curtain and told him, “I love you.”

I’ve got nothing left to hide, and I haven’t scared her off.

This year I turned 43 and I got the best gift an old Rob could get: I got loved.