My best friend, Connie, died a few months before her 40th birthday. Today would have been her 47th birthday.
I think she would have disliked getting older, and eventually old.
She would have loved seeing her oldest son becoming homecoming king at his college, and having even more fun in college than she did. She would have loved seeing her oldest daughter get married, and loved having a son-in-law. She would have loved seeing her youngest son working along side her dad making and fixing stuff. And she would have loved seeing her youngest daughter become the quintessential young lady. She would have loved hearing her kids laugh together as nearly grown ups. She would have loved looking forward to grandchildren. She would have loved being able to celebrate all the wedding anniversaries she has missed. I and her husband (my brother) have toasted to her with a bottle of Dom on their anniversary every year since she left. She would have loved all that great champagne that I got drink instead.
But she would have hated having to wear reading glasses just to be able to read her watch. She would have been frustrated with her hands losing strength and her fingers getting crooked and stiff. She would have hated that sometimes hopping out of bed would be more like groaning and rolling out. She would NOT have been on board with the whole “the spirit is willing, but the body is weak” thing that happens with age. She would have not liked anything about aging that would have slowed her down.
She’s missed all that good stuff and will miss a lot more…but she has missed the bad stuff, too, including the creaky parts of aging. I know that she is likely laughing at me wearing readers and pushing ever closer to 50 every time her birthday rolls around and she still gets to be 39…forever 39.