LOOKING FORWARD

“Looking Forward” is the theme of this year's Women’s Conference for my church in Altadena. I thought about that for a moment and realized how appropriate it is for women of a certain age, such as myself. When I was young, pretty much all I did was look forward to the day I could do what I wanted without asking anyone for permission. Now that I’m older and have experienced so much loss, sometimes it’s hard to look forward.

Living in the past can be a comfortable place full of beautiful memories. There are people and places I will never forget (nor would I want to), but they are no longer a part of my present or future. Moving on from the past doesn’t mean forgetting. It means that I’m living in the here and now.

Looking forward, I know that my world will change, and with change comes uncertainty.

After working for over forty years at the Los Angeles Superior Court, I was a bit apprehensive about who I would be, what I would do, and whether there would be enough money to live like I had been living before retirement.  I retired in March 2020, just as Covid-19 became a global pandemic. You might think I had no choice but to move forward, but that wouldn’t be true. The isolation of beginning retirement and quarantining because of the virus was very depressing. From 2016 to now, there have been so many deaths in my family and of people that I have known and loved. Some days, it was so hard to get up and look forward without fear and trepidation about what the future would bring. But I do. I look forward to each new day, knowing it is beyond my control. I start my day thanking God for a new beginning, another chance to be better than I was the day before. And at night, I ask him to forgive me for my trespasses.

Life is beautiful, but it isn’t without pain and suffering. There are things beyond our control, yet we do have a say in how we move in this world. We can be gracious, kind, and loving despite the things that could have made us bitter, depressed, lonely, or angry….

I have a choice. I can either give up and believe that my best days are in the past or believe that better ones are coming. I’ve had a good life, yet I know I haven’t seen the best that God has promised me.

Since retirement, I’ve self-published two books, the third of which will be published soon. I’m excited about my second act as an author because I know I can remain hopeful as long as I have something to look forward to. I can wake up excited, hopeful, and expecting something extraordinary as I look forward to each new season of my life!

Never let yesterday use up too much of today – Will Rogers

TEACHING AN OLD DOG A NEW TRICK

I’m finally taking swimming lessons this summer. For years, I would have told you I could swim. After all, I swam as a kid. During the summers, I would walk with my sister and some of the kids in my neighborhood to Roosevelt Park and go swimming. As a child, I never took swimming lessons; I just jumped into the pool. I swam in the pool's deep end and didn’t give it a second thought.

Now, in my sixties, I’m afraid to lie backward and float in four feet of water. OMG…don’t even think about floating facing the water. I must remind myself not to panic when floating because all I have to do is stand up!

Learning how to swim in my sixties will be a slow process because that fearlessness of youth is long gone. It has been replaced with an irrational fear I’m determined to conquer.

In these last dog days of summer, this old lady will be splashing around in four feet of water, trying to suppress my fear of drowning in water that I only need to stand up in to be safe.

At this time in my life, I’m determined to do everything I want to do while I still can. No, I will not be jumping out of planes, ziplining, or climbing cliffs, but I will do the things that I once enjoyed. Teaching an old dog a new trick may not be easy, but it isn’t impossible.

THAT WOMAN IN THE MIRROR

When I stop and really look at myself in the mirror, I barely recognize myself. Gone is the young woman who laughed so loud and hard that the people around her had to laugh, too. That carefree girl always humming, singing, or making a happy sound is gone. Her leaving was a combination of little hurts and disappointments until the catastrophic passing of my mother. My mother’s passing almost broke me, and for years, there was little joy in my life. Now, a permanent sadness resides in the depths of my eyes. Lips that were once quick to smile now rest downward, only turning upward with effort. Lines are etched on my face where worry, anger, pain, and fear have left their mark. The hair, which I was always trying to tame, is almost a memory. The simplicity of my childhood is a cherished recollection that I’m so thankful to have had, but it has been replaced with the harsh reality of life.

I’m sure I’m not the only one physically changed by difficult situations or circumstances. Looking in mirrors may not be as pleasant as it once was, but I encourage you to stop and take a long, hard look at yourself. You may be shocked, saddened, or surprised at who you see staring back at you.

I see my mother looking back at me, and because I can see my mother, I’m sure parts of her mother and her mother’s mother are peering back at me. I see a girl who grew up into a young woman who loved a man who broke her heart and later helped her put the pieces back together. I see a Black single mother who refused to fit into the stereotypical role that society thought she had consigned herself and her child to. I see a woman who purchased her first house before she was thirty. I see a woman who didn’t see herself as beautiful for far too long. I see a woman who would have given up if it wasn’t God. I see a woman whose broken pieces were put back together, and every line on her face proves she weathered the storm.

I would love to know who you see looking back at you in the mirror!