I am a positive person, or so I have been told. I have had hardships and disappointments along life’s way that have tried to level me.  I have recovered from them and moved on to new situations.   I do not dwell on the past like some I know, i.e., past hurts or betrayals, earthshattering (at the time) declarations, or disappointing behavior by loved ones.  I have “turned the page” and moved on.

I have a friend who is very much like me in this respect.  We were discussing this attitude of moving past “bad times” and on to better ones the other day, and she said it is was getting harder for her to “turn the page.”  She is quite a bit younger than I am and it saddened me that this is happening to her so soon.  Losing the ability to put bad things behind you and move on to better times is a “happiness” thing.  You can look forward to new beginnings, new friends, and new times.  Anticipation fuels you when you “turn the page” to a new one.

I have reached a time where it is harder to look forward to a new life.  Can this be what happens when you age?  I have no close family, i.e., no children, grandchildren, etc. to live through and occupy my thoughts.  My friends are aging also and we cannot traverse the miles to see each other very often.  Looking forward is very hard when there is no “new page” visible in your future.  What do we do when there is no “new page” for our lives?  Is this why so many older people are depressed?  Is this why I eat so much sugar – to get the high that life cannot give me? 

I wish I knew how to fix this.  I am going to try to retrieve that old optimism that has fueled me thus far.  I just have to figure out what will pull me forward to a new page and a new life.  Wish me luck.  If I find it, I will share it so others can benefit from “turning the page,” too. 

Betrayal – this is a word that everyone experiences at one time or another in a lifetime.  Unfortunately, a child can experience betrayal at a very young age – a “best friend” likes another better, a parent prefers one child over others, etc. 

As we move into our youth and middle age, betrayal becomes even more hurtful.  A boyfriend or girlfriend dumps us.  A husband or wife cheats on us.  A friend lies to us and is found out.  Someone makes a promise and does not keep it.

I experienced betrayal early on – I was not my parents’ favorite after my brother was born, my little “best” girlfriends at times chose others and broke my heart.  As I got older, friends just disappeared from my life without explanation.  And, as I have said before, I have been married more than once and my batting average for cheating husbands is 100%.  Note:  my marriages never lasted long enough to warrant the restlessness that comes after a long marriage.

You can probably tell several stories of betrayals that have changed your life and your perceptions.  That is the point; although betrayal is terrible at the time it happens, the passing of time does put a different perspective on it.  You forgive the cheating husbands (or become indifferent to them and what they did), you try to understand why friends deserted you in a time of need, and you forgive your parents for displaying “human” qualities.

However, there is one betrayal that does not go away or even become numbed with the passing of time.  I call it the ultimate betrayal – when your own body lets you down and betrays you as you grow older.

I love seeing all the new ads about the invigorating lifestyle senior people can have in these very expensive retirement communities. There was an ad for a local senior citizen center in a town where I once lived that had the silver haired couple smiling and having a great time.  I had the pleasure of meeting the man, a retired physician, when I joined the gym there.  He was delightful, if not a bit older than the picture, and I thought he was the perfect person to showcase.  Unfortunately, sometime after the photo shoot, he was diagnosed with cancer.  His body had betrayed him.

I have another friend who has racked up terrible betrayals in the past few years, i.e., breast cancer, thyroid cancer, hip and knee problems that prevent her from walking and deterioration of her mind as a result.  Don’t you know someone who knows someone or is someone who has dementia or Alzheimer’s?  What a betrayal that is!  To actually forget who you are and eventually who you were is horrific.

Then there are people like me whose body is slowly betraying them inch by inch.  So far, thankfully, I have no great betrayer like cancer, dementia, or major surgery repairs. However, my body is slowing breaking down. I have arthritis, I walk with a cane, I have a shoulder that cannot be raised above my head, my internal organs have made me aware of them recently, I tire sooner, I ”rest” more, and I am starting to forget words when telling a story.  I have been told that this is natural in the aging process.  But I still feel that all of this is betrayal; I cannot forgive my body for doing this at a later time as I have other betrayals because this betrayal keeps “truckin along” and I will not get over it.

 “Sometimes I don’t think it’s sickness nor being penniless that’s hardest; it’s being forgot.  The worst thing about getting old is people don’t look in.”  The detective who heard this thought it “was the saddest testament to age” he had ever heard.

This quote from a book I was reading (The Black Cat, by Martha Grimes) really hit home with me.  Since I had no close family, I worked hard over the years to maintain friendships with all the people I knew.  Even though I moved, I would come back to visit and encourage these people to visit me wherever I lived, i.e., beach, DC, etc.  I realized a few years ago that I did not have as many “friends” as I thought.  I had been the only one working hard to keep these friendships.  When I stopped, many of the friendships stopped.  Others slowly fizzled.  I still have a few close friends that “remember” but as this quote says, “it’s being forgot” that really hurts when you get older.  People write you off as not worth knowing any longer.  And it does hurt very much to cease being valued – to be “forgot.”