A Distinct

Massapequa NY

25 July, 2021

12:04 AM

Description

When I was six I wanted to be like my mother because she always knew how to do everything When I was ten I wanted to be like my new baby sister because I believed Mama loved her more than me When I was 12 I wanted to be like Joanie Garrett who won the Christian Doctrine Medal in eighth grade . (I never did) When I was 14 I wanted to be another Miss Subway because they were all so beautiful and their pictures were in all the NYC subway cars. When I was 16 I read "THE LOTTERY" and wanted to be another Shirley Jackson and write for the New Yorker. (Another thing I never did) When I was 18 I wanted to be another Elizabeth Graham who owned the fabled Elizabeth Arden company where I worked. (That didn't happen either) When I was 19 I only wanted to be "His" wife, and happily, I did do that. When I was 21 and for years afterward, I only wanted to be a good Mother. I am not sure that happened, but I remember, I tried. When I was 26, I reread all of Shirley Jackson's words and borrowed a typewriter. When I was 32, I had my fourth and last baby and returned the typewriter. When I was 40 and everyone was finally in school, I rented another typewriter and wondered about using a computer. When I was 50 I received my first acceptance letter including a check from the NYT. After the year I entered my second half century, I spent most of my time staying afloat as life rapidly kept changing, and escalating. In the following years that swept by like a tornado, eventually my world issued unforeseen dramatic challenges. I only wondered then if l could survive without the protection of love. When I learned that is not only possible, but a demanding reality, I no longer cared about wanting anything ever again. Until this week when sitting in an elegant dining room respite with flowers, colored linen cloths and other residents, I noticed one of the larger tables was always occupied. Their conversation appeared to be not only engrossing, but sprinkled with laughter. It seemed a nice place to be, and I wondered. I began to notice the six occupants change daily with the exception of a tall stately white haired lady who always claims the same seat. She wears the essence of quiet chic and I noticed both her opinions and attention seem to be constantly sought by all her various dinner companions. When I inquired discretely, I was told. "That's Lorraine. Can you believe she's 101." Suddenly so many years later, I remembered the pangs of wanting to be like someone else, This time it is Lorraine, who teaches others daily that growing older is a distinct privilege and not a time to be feared. And I finally understood the meaning of the word inspiration.