How to get older

Or what it's like to have a birthday when you are over 50!

Yesterday was my birthday, but I think I should first mention that I turned 50 on March 14, 2020, which was maybe not an auspicious beginning to my 50s. Remember that weekend? My boyfriend Tony and my daughters and I were staying at an Airbnb in North Adams, a favorite town of ours. Tony and I kept joking (to ourselves) about how we’d remember it as the last weekend that we’d be living above ground. We warily visited restaurants and other places that weekend that were soon to be shut down indefinitely.

I remember that our Airbnb had a record player and the first night there we put on music, and I danced and danced. This is likely what I’d do if the world was truly coming to an end. I love to dance.

But meanwhile, yesterday. When I woke up, I was shocked to discover it was a bit after 7am, which is, hilariously, sleeping in for me. Our cat, Pepper (or Mr. Blip, which is what Tony and I usually call him, though my kids hate that, but come on), wakes me up every morning around 6am, if I’m lucky. I don’t mind getting up at that time, but I do mind the shouting outside our bedroom door. But on my birthday, like a hero, Tony managed to slip out and feed him without waking me up. So that for one second when I woke to the relative silence, I thought Pepper, Mr. Blip, our loud beautiful cat, was— But no! He was just as confused as I, I bet.

So then my usual morning routine commenced, minus feeding Mr. Blip, with yoga and then tea drinking and reading on the couch. It was so late that I didn’t have as much time before work, but oh! Let me tell you about our couch. We recently got a sectional that is the most beautiful most comfortable couch I’ve ever experienced. Can you imagine that? Like you must go to other people’s houses (or perhaps Airbnbs) and think, Sigh. I will never have a [piece of furniture] that [comfortable, beautiful, etc.]. But in this case, we really have it. A woman I follow on Twitter (no one calls it X) not long ago tweeted, “It turns out I didn’t need a whole new life. I just needed a sectional couch.” And yes, every word of this is true. We now spend most of our time on this couch unless we are at work.  

Mr. Blip also loves the couch.

Though I work from home, literally two feet from my bed, and Tony works in the room next door (he has the longer commute), so the couch is always a possibility. Yesterday, happily, I didn’t have a ton of work and that’s all I’m going to say about work (I am the only Reyna Eisenstark in the world so, you know, I have to be somewhat careful) (I’m not really that careful).  

Tony made me the most amazing birthday gift, which was a video collage of ridiculous funny things I said while, er, not sober (see above), using stills from “Suits” and set to the theme song of “Suits” (which is called, ridiculously, “Greenback Boogie” and is one of the most terrible songs ever written, but catchy!).

You get the idea.

We watched the entirety of “Suits” over the past few months and finished it a few weeks ago. Since we watched only one episode a night (sometimes two), it took a while to get through. I usually don’t like to binge TV shows, so we have two or three shows going at once and we watch one of each show each night. Since I came up with this system myself, I believe it to be perfect. Plus watching an episode of “Suits” was such a relief right after, say, an episode of “Fargo” Season 5, which I actually had a nightmare about and made me hate (!) Jon Hamm, since he played one of the most terrifyingly evil characters ever. Don’t get me wrong; it’s an amazing show, one of the best, but also devastating.

My older daughter sent me a text from California, where she has a bird job for a few months (tracking rails, a kind of bird, near the Salton Sea), and I spoke to my younger daughter, who is spending this semester in Kenya (!). The call (via WhatsApp) wasn’t about my birthday, per se, but more about having to get some information for her so she could register for fall classes (her final semester!) (she’s graduating a semester early!) (I know!). She has promised to make me a throw pillow for my birthday when she returns. I am already thrilled.

I decided that Tony and I should order lunch from Shining Rainbow, a local Chinese restaurant. I recently read Invitation to a Banquet by Fuchsia Dunlop, which is an incredible book about the story of Chinese food. It essentially tells the story of Chinese culture through food (for example, the Chinese believe that cooked food is the sign of civilization and raw food is barbaric) and how (she really convinced me) Chinese food is the most innovative and delicious food in the world.

But the thing about Shining Rainbow is that they only take cash for deliveries (I think they might take credit cards over the phone but not on their website?) (in this economy?), so I headed out, on what was an utterly gorgeous day, to get some cash. It’s not always nice on my birthday. In fact, sometimes there is a snowstorm. And once in 1990, it was 90 degrees. But, usually, it’s in the high 40s. The day I was born was in the high 40s. I checked this out once.

Then since it was just a block away, I headed to the library. Like all public libraries, this one is perfect, and I feel thrilled every time I enter it. (How did we get something so right and then never reproduce anything like it in American society again? Um, I think you know the answer.)

I have to admit that my all-time favorite library is the Chatham public library, where my kids went to story hour every Friday morning before they could even walk, and the librarians knew practically everyone’s name and were hilarious and deadly serious, depending. In 2021, my younger daughter graduated from high school, and right after graduation, in a practice that had started in 2020 (and hopefully never ends), we all got in our cars and drove down the streets of the tiny, beautiful village of Chatham while people shouted and cheered on the sidewalks. It was one of the most unexpected and moving experiences of my entire life, but the part that got me most was when we passed Becky, the woman who led story hour at the library, who knew my children as babies, and she looked into our car and saw my daughter and shouted her name, and I thought, Now I have actually witnessed time passing, and burst into tears.

Meanwhile, back at the local library, I perused the fiction shelves and grabbed two books to take out (I could not linger; there was Chinese food on its way!) and headed home and soon there were dumplings and noodles and fried tofu squares. Cooked because we are not barbarians.

Later that night, Hilary, my oldest friend (going on 44 years), called me, and then my dad (who’s known me even longer). My dad and stepmother had sent me (via a local flower place) a gorgeous bouquet, which included one peony, my absolute favorite. And there was, of course, TV, and there were texts and messages from friends and relations throughout the day.

When I was a child, I used to spend the entirety of my birthday reminding myself that it was my birthday. Like I might be just walking down the hallway at school and think, It’s your birthday, so that I’d snap myself back into thinking about it. It seemed crazy to spend one single second not remembering that it was my birthday. I tried this yesterday, but sadly it had no effect on me. I remember that the day after my birthday was always the saddest, most disappointing day of my life. But today feels just fine.

I truly believe I’m at the age I was always meant to be. Which I suppose is middle age. How do I put this? In the Grace Paley story “Anxiety,” an older woman leans out of her window and says to a man below, “Young man, I am an older person who feels free because of that to ask questions and give advice.” This statement is my entire personality. I have never been myself more than I am right now. This is the trick of middle age, right? You’re maybe not dancing all night in a club anymore, but you’re still, say, dancing in an Airbnb with your family just before the end of the world as we know it and you feel fine, etc. I mean, dancing has always been one of my absolute favorite things to do, and I never plan on stopping. If there’s music, I’m dancing. Sorry, fellow shoppers at Price Chopper, maybe they shouldn’t have so many great hits from the 70s playing, you know?

And really, an ordinary day is kind of a perfect day, if you know what I mean. That, my friends, is wisdom, hard-earned. If that’s the only thing I learned in these 54 years, well, that’s plenty.