49 Years and the Art of Getting Older

 

daddy and meprofile49

November 1990 / November 2015

 

I look back at the art of my 20’s

the art of my 30’s…

Now, in the final year of my 40’s

I look forward to where my art will take me

as my journey continues.

Since I tend to measure my life in terms of my artwork

I never had a problem with getting older..

until now.

This is my 49th birthday.

I am now as old as my father will ever be.

I always thought he died too young..

But now I know.

 

 

 

14 comments

  1. Happy birthday! This poem resonates deeply with me – my father died at the age of 46. It felt very strange to pass that milestone.
    When I mentioned being 50 in a recent conversation, the person I was talking with squawked in protest that I’d revealed my age. I shrugged and said I knew a number of people who hadn’t made it this far. That gave him pause, and he admitted he’d never really thought about it that way.
    Best wishes for an amazing year!

    Like

    Reply

    1. Thank you, Jennifer. Great perspective.. yes, so many don’t make it this far. I have also encountered people who think I should be more concerned or make more of an effort to hide my age. Honestly, the crows feet around my eyes do not upset me at all. In fact, they warm my heart because they remind me that I have smiled a lot, that I have known joy – and for this, I am grateful.

      Like

      Reply

    2. Thank you, Jennifer. Great perspective.. yes, so many don’t make it this far. I have also encountered people who think I should be more concerned or make more of an effort to hide my age. Honestly, the crows feet around my eyes do not upset me at all. In fact, they warm my heart because they remind me that I have smiled a lot, that I have known joy – and for this, I am grateful.

      Like

      Reply

  3. Happy Birthday, dear and awesome Michele. What a double-whammy coincidence: My dad died at 49 years and 77 days old (Oct 20, 1933–Jan 5, 1983). Today I turn 61 years and 77 days old (Aug 30, 1954–Nov 17, 2015). So I am now exactly 12 years older than my father will ever be. I can tell you, I thought a lot about him right around my own 49th birthday. He died of a heart attack, and the year he died I got into long-distance running in a big way–all the “insurance” I could handle. Still walk a great deal. Twelve years from now, wouldn’t it be nice to have a retrospective show of all the art you did between your 49th and 61st birthday? And here’s hoping I attend the opening at a spry 73 . . .

    Like

    Reply

    1. Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Gary. My father also died of a heart attack – devastating and unexpected. I did not turn to exercise.. instead I threw myself into my art. Glad to hear you’re still walking.. and still drawing and writing. We have one life on this earth and we need to let our light shine. By the way, I haven’t seen you in ages… hope our paths cross someday soon ❤

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  4. I can imagine how that feels. My grandma died at the age of 63, my mother was only 59. And her brother 48… I’m 40, and often think of my own mortality. How many years have I left? Then I think: Just seize the day, and live on.. And hopefully long and in good (mental) health.

    Like

    Reply

  5. Stopping by to thank you for your recent follow on Shift Key and landed here. Like you, I have lived to be older than my dad. Birthdays are truly a celebration of life and the knowledge that each day is a gift. (God’s gift. The length of our lives is not dependent on or a measure what we have done or not done. It is simply our length of days.) Blessings to you on your birthday.

    Like

    Reply

Leave a comment