normal... for my age

On Saturday I had a cat scan... long story short, I smacked my head a couple weeks ago and the pain had not gone away and I had developed an annoying twitch on my right eyelid and the school nurse said maybe it was a hematoma and a friend of mine freaked out and said I might die and must seek medical attention immediately, and so Saturday I went to emergent care and they sent me for a cat scan and the results said my brain was "normal for my age"

Now what the hell does that mean?

For a couple years I subscribed to the magazine More, the one that says it celebrated the over forty woman... but every ad is filled with age defying makeup and hair color... all the models have flawless skin and if they are forty, fifty, or heaven forbid, MY AGE, well, then the editors and photo people have been pretty generous with the airbrushing... I didn't think they were celebrating at all. They were trying to tell us how with just a little more effort, with a few more dollars spent, we could remain 30-40 forever. I don't think it works that way.

I don't know who I am anymore... normal for my age... what is normal?

Things are happening to my body that are truly alarming... flesh, skin is accumulating in the darnedest places. I can fill in my bra with skin that I scoop from here and there... the skin around my knees is sagging and I will not even begin to talk about my stomach, which first thing in the morning, when I am standing and holding it in looks pretty much like it used to, but by evening has puddled down into this forlorn sack under my rib cage. The other day I commented that I had a brace on my knee, orthodics in my shoes, and a magnetic bracelet on my arm... I remember my friend and I doubled over laughing at the pathetic truth of the situation... but then later that day I got a call from the doctors office that I had mild carpal tunnel and should wear arm braces to bed every night.

Over a year ago, I made a break with the life I had told myself I would lead. Since then I have been floundering a bit... trying to get my sea legs, so to speak. Trying to find out who I really am. Letting my hair go gray and naturally curly. It's been like a bumper car ride, careening this way and that. Connecting to things that feel like Source, like art and spirit and grandchildren... and then bumping into that other thing... what is it... I don't have a word for it, but you know what I mean... that thing that makes you feel unsuccessful, unloved, and old.

So that's why the words normal for her age struck me so hard... that is what I'd like to be, just normal for my age, but I don't know what that is anymore... there doesn't seem to be a model for it out there. I am really tired of chasing the brass ring of youth but not yet ready for the old folks home either. There is an in-between time, isn't there? Just a few years of grace when you are certain about what you needn't do anymore. Those few years when your voice is strong and so is your resolve. That time when you are finally wise and powerful and beautiful... but in a classical sense, like an old Victorian home that has been well maintained or a tree or a smooth stone...

Normal for my age. People my age cry for no reason at all, they like comfortable clothes, and cannot tolerate bullshit or wasted energy. People my age have some wrinkles and saggy skin and knees that give them fits. People my age live with a little pain and learn how to ignore it. People my age like a glass of wine, Meet the Press, and other people who can remember the words to Hey Paul, Hey Paula and Soldier Boy. People my age appreciate quiet and beauty and a little sarcasm. People my age know how to suit themselves and sometimes do so at the expense of someone else's comfort.... or at least that's what I think.

Maybe it has nothing to do with age. Maybe it just has to do with me. What do you think?