Introduction to Midlife
In the Middle, Meddle, and Muddle of Life
physician once asked me what the age range was for my Women’s Mid-life Support Group.
Anything between forty and death, I answered.
But I should have told him that there is no limit…on either end.
If you are twenty-five years old, taking care of your diabetic grandmother because your own mother is drug addicted
and incarcerated…and you suffer from hypertension, work as an aide at the convalescent home during the day, and attend
nursing school at night…then you qualify for my mid-life group.
Or if you are dead-and-gone, sittin’ up there in heaven and polishin’ the pearly gates, but still trying
to get Saint Peter to make an exception for your no-good, rotten, cheatin’ husband…and you need a larger pair
of wings because you’ve been bingeing on the manna…you qualify too.
neither a chronological age nor a phase of life…it simply means being in the middle
of life…too much life. Too many
responsibilities. Too many irons in the fire, pains in the rear, and worries
on the brain. Life turns weary.
Mid-life also means being in the meddle of life. Too many bodies to run with just one head…the dunderhead husband, the doltish teen, the ditzy neighbor,
the dastardly boss. So many incompetent and irresponsible folks to tend, mend,
and bend to one’s own way of thinking…and so little time. Life turns
Lastly, mid-life means being in the muddle of life. Too much to remember and not a very good “rememberer”.
Too many questions and not enough answers. Life turns bleary.
And, God forbid, that in the middle of this muddled meddling, you break into tears in your physician’s office
or ask for the third time to have him look at your aching back or swollen ankles. Within
a minute, you are handed a prescription for an anti-depressant or tranquilizer or, worse yet, sent off to the psychiatry department. You find yourself confused and offended. After
all, you’re not crazy…at least you didn’t think so until then.