In my day, I couldn't wait for the time when I could get my ears pierced and shave my legs. For some reason, my parents deemed that 13 was the magic age for that right of passage. I was so giddy the day I could get my ears pierced--I remember it well. Until I passed out. In those days we had to go to a jeweler in town to select your earrings and have them do the deed. I remember picking out the gold balls and sitting on the stool, the click of the piercing gun, then the thud of hitting the floor! I got up to have them finish the task and have lived with those same holes for almost 40 years.
I don't remember when the leg shaving began but I still wonder why I thought this was such a grand thing to be able to do. These days I scrutinize my weekly wardrobe to determine if I really need to shave them at all.
And then there's that other womanly right of passage. I wasn't especially eager to enter that stage and it's proven to be nothing more than an interruption to my life on a regular basis. This too shall pass...and anytime soon would be okay with me.
But there's a passage that I've recently found myself in that kind of snuck up on me. It has marked me as a grown up person, a mature woman, the "older" woman in that Titus 2 passage. I think it started with the weddings of my nephew and niece then the birth of my great nephew. It was the realization that a new generation of family was coming into adulthood and it was only a short time ago that we were the ones getting married and having babies. This weekend was another mark in that passage. In my circle of friends, we are having children who are getting married and having babies. I hosted a bridal shower for one of those daughters this past Saturday. We were the ladies with the punch bowls, the brunch recipes, and the traditions passed down from generations before us about shower games and ribbon bouquets. It was an awesome day--friends banding together, collaborating our gifts and talents and walking hand in hand into the next phase of life together!
