Smiling At Me (Again)
Dancing on the Beach at Sunset
I have turned a corner in my life.
I started traveling with my children when they were very young. It was hard, tiring and punctuated with mishaps but also filled with enough joyful moments to make it worth it. I will forever remember Jacob toddling through a vineyard, mouth smeared purple with stolen, ripe French grapes, hair tinged gold in the sunshine.
What also sticks with me is all the smiles and warmth we received as we carted the kids around the world. As parents with very small children, people smiled at us. A LOT.
They weren’t always perfectly behaved children but our family antics were most frequently met with smiles and warmth. Strangers could see we were working hard as parents and their smiles seemed to communicate support as if they were saying, “Good for you for being out here!” or “Atta Girl.” The smiles were like supportive, shoulder buddy punches.
Once the kids got older or we traveled more without them, we no longer received those sweet looks. We were just random, anonymous adults out and about in the world. The change happened so slowly I wasn’t even aware of it. Very occasionally we would still get a smile from an older adult when we were out to dinner as a family, phones piled in the middle of the table, talking to each other.
But mostly the smiles were gone.
And then, just like that I noticed some smiles again. And suddenly there were a lot of them. It was lovely but also a little startling.
I was in Santa Barbara with a group of friends to celebrate the 60th birthday of one of my besties. There were six of us, and I have known them since I was 22. These women are heart sisters, incredibly close female friends who are sisters by choice.
Five of us (excluding the birthday girl) planned a fun adventure. There would be biking, beach trips, shopping, restaurants, seeing the Devil Wears Prada 2, birthday cake, and just being together.
Our time was just as planned and I left with my joy cup filled. But this wasn’t surprising. This posse of women has been doing a trip each year for at least twenty years and they are always lots of fun.
But this trip had a subtle but remarkable difference. On this trip people smiled at us…A LOT.
When we went for a sumptuous birthday lunch both waitstaff and patrons smiled at us. When we saddled up to the counter to buy Milk Duds at the movie theater, the beleaguered counter person smiled. When we chatted and offered shopping advice to one another in the tony Santa Barbara boutiques, we got smiles. When we rode our bikes along the seashore, both walkers and fellow bikers smiled at us. And, most of all when we gathered on the beach for a sunset birthday dance party we got loads and loads of smiles.
While I loved the smiles and always smiled back, it was a little disconcerting. Nice but also confusing. What was happening?
And then it hit me. Just like we are supportive of young families out and about, we are also supportive of older folks doing the same. My realization is that I am now in the older folks club. While I like the smiles, that realization hit hard.
In moments when I am feeling generous toward myself, I choose to believe those smiles are aspirational. Perhaps people are hoping that when they get older, they too will have a fabulous group of friends to dance on the beach with. I imagine they are saying to themselves, “When I am that age I want to be just like that!.”
A slightly less sanguine interpretation is that, for people much older than us, we are sparking memories of their own bygone days. For younger people, perhaps we remind them of beloved parents or grandparents.
But in the moments when I am being less generous…likely more realistic…I believe I am back to getting the “Good for you for being out here!” and “Atta Girl,” shoulder punch smiles. Those smiles mean we have rounded the corner where people think we are “older.” They are happy for us that we are still out having fun, even if they can more easily imagine us in rocking chairs than on a beach dance floor.
I am only 57, so initially being welcomed into the “older folks club,” even if it came with smiles, made me bristle. But as I have sat with it over the past few weeks, I have decided I don’t mind… quite as much.
After all, not everyone arrives here with friendships that have lasted nearly four decades. Not everyone has people willing to hop on a plane, ride bikes by the ocean, dance on the beach, and drink champagne under the stars.
Embrace your old-lady-hood, although you are hardly that, and enjoy the smiles. I like all your maybe’s. I would just add that perhaps someone thinks you are gorgeous! You all are gorgeous! And remember, “not everyone arrives here with friendships,” not everyone arrives.
i love this. i will always smile at you, because that return smile is everything