I Want to Grow Old

For the last few years I've  been very, ummm, hesitant to accept the aging process.

Now, I am not terribly old. Yet. But I have reached that age where, when you are in your late teens, and early twenties, in your youthful ignorance, you consider to be 'older'.

I have hit the third decade of my life. And it came so fast!

I am watching my friends get gray hair and receding hair lines, and for the first  time in my life, I have a deep appreciation for my natural blonde hair color. I haven't found a grey yet. And if there are any, they hide well. There are certain times where I catch myself thinking I just can't do that anymore, or maybe I don't recover as quickly, I value my sleep even more. I think going out for a cup of coffee is a grand time, and when I shop till I drop, I am finding that I drop a little more quickly. I live near the high school and catch my self saying, out loud, "What on earth are the kids these days wearing?!" Since when did they become kids, and me not one of them?

I have, in the past few years celebrated my 25th birthday repeatedly, and had decided this last year that I am going to have to be 26 next year. It's looking worse and worse for me when you subtract my 'age' from my oldest daughters.....

Recently, my point of view on this has changed. I want to get older.

Now, I don't know that I'll ever be able to, with joy, accept wrinkles, gray and thinning hair. I don't think I will ever be able to accept the 'turtle neck' that's not a sweater. But, I don't want to be forever young. I want to grow older. I want to watch my kids graduate from school. I want to see them become wonderful adults. I want to remember 20 years ago, and 30 years ago, etc. I want to have lived for God for decades upon decades. I want to see my children get married and have my grandbabies - if God wills it. I don't want to be forever young.

On March first, my friend Adrienne became forever young. She was just a few months into her 31st year of life when she left us. I don't think she had a grey hair on her head. She certainly didn't have any wrinkles, or the 'turtle neck'. I stood in the hospital room with her and all of her loved ones as she took her last breath, watched her heart rate go to 0, watched her leave her young body.

December 3, 2003 is the day that my journey with Blood Bank of San Bernardino and Riverside Counties (now LifeStream) began. It's also the day that I met Adrienne. Orientation was so intimidating. I was 20 and Adrienne was just about to turn 21. Adrienne was my first lunch buddy, and I was, and still am, so glad that I found a friend in her!

I remember when Adrienne got sick the first time. Hodgkin's Lymphoma. We were so hopeful for her. She fought so hard, and the disease was tough on her. I watched her get progressively sicker, and sicker. I watched the chemo wreak it's havoc on her body, watched her lose all of her hair, visited her at City of Hope. I cried the whole way home because I was so scared for my friend, and I remember saying that I didn't ever want to see anyone that sick again. I knew that Adrienne was an exceptionally beautiful person. But through all of that I saw her get even more beautiful. When faced with adversity, I believe you get to see the real inner workings of an individual. In her illness and struggle, I saw even more clearly how incredibly strong and beautiful Adrienne was.

And, my beautiful, strong friend beat Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Her hair grew back so pretty, and she looked so healthy and wonderful. And then, one day, she told me that she was pregnant. I was shocked because she wasn't supposed to be able to have children. I remember her calling me one day, and I picked up the phone, and all I heard was her excited voice telling me - "It's a boy!!!!" I was so happy for her. I was so happy for her when she got married. I saw my friend, and she was truly happy. And then, a few years later, I remember her telling me that her little boy was going to be a big brother. And they'd decided to wait until the baby was born to see if it was a boy or a girl. I was so happy for my friend when they welcomed a beautiful little baby girl, that looks just like her mom, into their family.

I remember hearing that Adrienne was sick again. I remember her telling me about it. I felt sick to my stomach. Myelodysplastic Syndrome. Her hemoglobin was so low. Adrienne needed a bone marrow transplant. And when they found her a donor, her condition had already progressed to Leukemia. But Adrienne fought, and I figured she'd beat the stinking cancer again, just like she'd done before.

I knew that she was in and out of the hospital. I knew that she'd gotten may blood transfusions. I took the calls from the hospital, taking orders for blood that my friend needed.

It just happened so fast.

I wish I would have done things differently. I wish that I would have told her how special she was to me. I wish I'd have been more involved in her life over these past few years. That I hadn't been so busy, and let such a good friendship be neglected. Time is so precious, and I should have spent more of it with her.

How wonderful would it be to lament gray hairs and wrinkles with Adrienne. Wouldn't it be wonderful to customize our canes, and buy orthopedic shoes together, and discuss dentures versus implants. To remember 10 years ago when we started working together, and then 20, and 30 years down the road.

We hear it so often - no one is promised tomorrow. But what does it really mean?

I want to appreciate the small things about my life. I want to slow down a little, and hug my kids more. Not worry so much about the house work, and all of the busy junk we can get caught up in. I want to take the moments that I get, because none of them are promised to me, and get the most out of them. Fill those moments full of the things that money can't buy, and keep the fleeting things like my children's childhood full and rich in those moments while they are still there.

I miss my friend Adrienne. And I am so thankful for the things that being her friend has taught me. I will always miss her and her beautiful smile.