I was in the kitchen last week when, for no reason whatsoever, I started singing. I wasn’t aware that Steve was in the next room, so I was startled when I heard him say wistfully, “I miss hearing you sing.”
His words have kept coming back to me.
Steve and I have been on a platform together–in various states, cities, and churches–almost every Sunday for the first forty years of our marriage. I had never thought about the fact that after all those years together, he would miss the simple sound of my singing. In some ways, it’s been a soundtrack of his life. His comment touched me and made me sad, all at the same time.
I haven’t sung at all (except for random snippets at home), and I haven’t touched a piano (except to teach Madi a little). To put aside a part of my life that has been integral to who I’ve been since I was a young child has been unsettling. But the desire isn’t there, nor are the opportunities.
After writing music for over five decades (and recording a lot of original music projects), I haven’t written a song in four years.
And after eighteen years of being a pastor’s wife and hosting hundreds of meals in our home, I haven’t hosted anyone for a meal in the past two and a half years, except for family and a couple of friends that have come for an out-of-town visit. I have yet to make any friends in Charlotte.
And as surprising as this may be, after having gone to church since I was about a week old, I haven’t attended a service in several months. I still pray and read the Bible every day. I still believe everything I’ve believed just as strongly as I ever have. But for this temporary season in my life, I’m taking a step back. (Steve still attends and plays bass in the worship band.)
For so many years of my life, Sunday meant stress, whether we were traveling (for fifteen years, we did services/concerts around the country), or whether we were pastoring. Although I loved both traveling and being a pastor’s wife, there was still plenty of stress.
In the traveling chapter of our life, I geared up for concerts and services with small children in tow, setting up gear, making song lists, getting to know a new pastor, congregation and church, trying my best to remember songs, lyrics, arrangements, chords, getting ready in an RV, and smiling through a thousand concerts even though sometimes my heart was hurting.
As a pastor’s wife, Sundays meant juggling graphics, screens, sheet music, playing and singing, while still trying to focus on the most important things–worshipping God and being available to our dear congregations as their pastor’s wife.
To get up now on a Sunday without any stress at all has been very healing to me. As I said, I know it’s for a season, but it’s where I am for now.
I have gained weight (emotional eating strikes again), and so none of the clothes I love fit. When I shop for clothes, I usually end up in the car in tears because nothing works for the particular shape of my body and everything seems designed for thin, trendy people or women who are ninety-ish.
Every night I tell Steve, “Well, let me go back to the bedroom and wrangle my outfit for tomorrow.” In my book, wrangling means to stand in front of my closet and sigh and mutter and finally pull out something I have worn twice already in the last two weeks. I’m sure my office mates are well familiar with all nine pieces of my wardrobe.
And of course, my health isn’t fabulous, what with cantankerous lungs and rebellious joints in my fingers, and the addition of some increasing back pain despite a year of chiropractic treatment.
I am in my sixties. Sixty-three, to be precise.
It didn’t help my overall feeling of angst to come across an article recently about the Invisible Woman Syndrome which, according to Google, is, “A phenomenon which commonly strikes after age fifty when many women report feeling less noticed, less prioritized, and sometimes less respected by society as they grow older.”
Since Sarah and I were talking about some related topics, I emailed her to ask if she had heard of the syndrome. Her reply was so wise and dear; I am sharing it with her permission.
Mom, I’ve heard of that syndrome too, so I’m glad you were also aware of it. I’ve heard it connected to menopause, basically: “If you’re no longer fertile and youthful looking, you have nothing more to contribute.” All the while, older men often get called “silver foxes,” which is such a double standard.
But you have so much wisdom, insight, and experience to share! I’m so glad you are still sharpening your mind and stewarding your voice; don’t let your stage of life hold you back! I know your mom would be proud of you.
Such encouraging words.
I’m not even quite sure why I’ve written about all this mishmash of my feelings; I am well aware that compared to what so many others go through, this is nothing. But I thought maybe you could relate to a little of it or all of it. It’s always good to be reminded that we’re not alone.
And also, whatever season you and I are in right now, we’ve never been here before. The landscape is strange and the road unfamiliar. And so I think we need to give ourselves grace as we navigate the newness; we need to be as kind to ourselves as we are to our family and friends. And I truly believe we are doing better than we think.
pictured below shows what I looked like before all the decades and the seasons conspired to turn me into sixty-three years old.
I’ve had traumatic days and golden days. But I am still kicking. Still standing strong. Still smiling and still singing–even if it is just in the kitchen.
And most importantly? I am seen. You are seen.
We all live under the loving gaze of the God who birthed this planet. And we are (not one of us) ever unseen.
What about you?
What season are you in? What does the landscape of life look like for you right now?
I don’t often comment but read your blog often. In this season you are seen but in New and different ways – at work and in your grand children’s lives. While you were on stage in assorted churches, there were child care people unseen by most but loving on the next generation. They ( me) were thrilled with minimal crying, biting and pooping.
I am 66 and not thrilled with this stage. I’m still with the preschoolers. My husband has retired and become a couch potato. I totally relate to feeling unseen.
Mary,
You don’t know how many times I stood on a platform and was grateful for the unseen (and often unthanked) people caring for my children in the nursery. Thank you for the years you’ve served in that capacity, making a difference by “loving on the next generation.”
However, that doesn’t mean that at the age of 66, it’s necessarily still something you want to be doing. Sometimes after so many decades, we just want to break out of our old chapters and turn a few new pages. I know it must be frustrating that your husband’s new chapter involves so much time on the couch. Retirement is a scary, uncertain season and sometimes I think retired people withdraw into a “safety zone” rather than venture out to experience new things.
Although I can’t see you in person, I do see you (and appreciate you) from afar. Thank you for your ministry to so many children through the years. Praying for new dreams for you. Hugs
You spoke to my heart as you so often do. I’m sure to many others as well. Thank you! (I See You, too!)
Sheri,
Thanks friend, for popping your head in here at the comments area. So glad this post was meaningful to you; it was certainly meaningful to write.
And thank you for seeing me for so many years!
Well Becky, this post has hit a chord with so many. And here I am, chiming in 🙂 I’m 65, live alone (caring full time for disabled adult daughter, as you know). My life is very solitary. I have no friends in the area. I am tired but will not move my girl to a facility. I have received a Graves’ Disease diagnosis this year, which basically means lots of blood work and medication adjustment. I have to lower stress and cannot eat anything that triggers it (goodbye chocolate). So depressing and difficult. My days are mostly managing our medical conditions, doctors, pharmacy, insurance etc.
Also it is exhausting worrying about my 2 adult sons, who are having their own challenges. They are heading to 40 so…..grownup problems. Then I feel guilty because –look at all the suffering going on out there in the world. We have homes and jobs, the grand kids are doing well. But then, I only have 20 years left, if I am lucky. I want to hurry up and live(travel) but the way things are going that may not happen.
So, lots of thoughts. I enjoy reading everyone’s responses. It helps to know there’s many of us in the same boat(but not bathing suits :):) Thank you for sharing.
Lesley,
Solitary. Tired. Caring for a disabled daughter. Recently diagnosed with Graves’ Disease. Additional doctor visits, paperwork, insurance hassles. Giving up chocolate. Trying to lower stress. Depressed. Worrying about adult children. Feeling guilty that you don’t have things as bad as other people. Wishing for a time when you might be free to travel. And probably wondering how you will continue to handle the stress and responsibility.
I’m so glad you have come to this space to unload those sentences onto the shoulders of your Smithellaneous friends from all over the world. We all carry something but your load seems to be so heavy right now.
I must say, I loved your sense of humor popping out in the end about being in the same boat but not bathing suits. You know you are going to make it when your sense of humor remains undaunted. Hugs.
Just had my “Medicare birthday” in December so I’m 65 now, and I get it! I’ve always been slender, though I worked very hard at it. But now, no matter what I do, my body shape is changing. I’m not obese, but when I put my hands on my hips, I think, “Whose body IS this? How did I get so THICK through the middle?” On the other hand, God is expanding my horizons in unexpected ways, and I am thankful to still be able to learn and grow and serve. Yes, we are sometimes unseen by the world (but never by the Father, as you said), but in a way, even that’s a blessing. We can get away with more stuff! Seriously though, I’m not as concerned as I used to be about what others think. I don’t feel the need to wear the latest styles, or have the latest technology, etc. I stopped wearing makeup when I retired (never wore much anyway), and that has been so freeing. I think accepting the limitations of our aging bodies and minds is a process, and while I don’t always LIKE it, I’m so grateful to have the chance to experience it.
JennyJo,
“Whose body IS this?” A great question so many of us can relate to! 🙂
Even though our hips are expanding, we can be encouraged by the fact that our horizons are expanding, too. As you said, we can “get away” with more stuff, and not be so concerned about what others think, like when we were younger.
I’m afraid I could never give up makeup, but I admire the freedom and simplicity you are welcoming into your life.
And yes, I’m grateful right along with you that we have the chance to experience the older years; many people who died too early would be grateful to be where we are. Happy horizon-exploring to you!
Becky, what an honest, thoughtful post.
I’m 61, similar to many of your readers. I read years ago that several types of whales and human women are the only species that go through menopause. (Whales?! I won’t make much comment on how menopausal women often experience weight gain, but I feel your pain. I do wonder if whales experience this, and if so, do they care?!) There are thoughts that older non-reproducing females are valuable as grandmothers/caregivers. We are a support system. I won’t argue with God’s design plan!
I am fortunate to have my elderly dad and in-laws nearby, so my main job currently is to be available to help them, a daughter and grandkids, and be a non-paid support for my still employed husband. I told one friend who is also in the Invisible Age, that we are the ones at the grocery stores during the day to help older, unsteady folks reach stuff on higher shelves. Or to spot older men or widowers who now find themselves doing the shopping (I see this often). Often the best assistance is simply to give a smile and notice others around us. So many elderly folks, I’m afraid, also feel members of an Invisible Age. Oh, and give encouraging non-judgemental smiles to young parents with rowdy kids in tow, or with fussy babies. Been there!
For me, it also seems like a Quiet Season, time to reflect on where I’ve been, and who I am. Sarah’s words are so wise. I love how she mentions your mom. As I age I understand my mom more and more. I wonder if our moms ever felt this invisibility.
The landscape of my life is not how I envisioned it. I have much to be grateful for, but of our 4 grown children, only our eldest daughter, with her youngsters, stays in close contact. Maybe in a decade our other kids will come around, but for now that is not the case. I’m learning to be ok with what is. I’m blessed to have my husband, and some wonderfully supportive siblings, as well as my dad and my in-laws nearby. I know I will feel such loss as the elders around me pass on. I wonder whether my other kids will be around for me and my husband as we age….
You are very much seen, Becky, and I love the comments of your readers. I thank you for this community.
Ann,
What a wonderful comment–full of wisdom and wit.
I learned something new about whales and human women! On the days when I get dressed and feel especially whale-like, I will remember that we have something in common. 🙂
Such good advice about being extra aware at the grocery store of who needs a little help, a smile, some encouragement. Many other countries value the elderly so much more than we do and I think we are robbing ourselves of the gifts of their wisdom and experience. It is an honor to lend a helping hand to an elderly person when I’m about and about. Soon enough, I will be one of them.
It’s true what you said about us understanding our moms more as we age. And I wouldn’t be surprised if many of our moms dealt with the feeling of invisibility, especially in earlier decades when women were “seen” much less than they are now.
I’m sorry that not all of your children are in close contact with you. Your words “I’m learning to be okay with it” are very wise. I read a long time ago that “in acceptance, there is peace.” That doesn’t apply to every situation but it certainly applies to many. I think as you and your husband get older and your years grow shorter, your other three children will begin to wake up to the fact that you won’t be around forever. The familial pull is strong. But in the meantime, I know it is very difficult.
I was especially touched that you thanked me for this community. That’s how I feel about it and I’m thankful someone else feels the same way. Hugs.
I am in a very sad, uncertain season of life, my husband of 39 years passed away in July of 2023. We moved to NC 12 years ago when I was 57and I have not made one single friend….We moved from Kansas City where we had lived for many years and where my kids grew up, I left behind many friends. We live in a golf course community, I don’t golf or play tennis and would never put on a bathing suit! The house is big and empty and eventually I will sell it but am not sure where I will go. I am originally from NJ and friends want me to move back there, my son is living with me temporarily but wants to move back to KC, so I could go there but my daughter lives about 10 miles away from me here in NC so I could stay here as well….everything is just so uncertain….I need to start cleaning out things but it’s just so overwhelming….I haven’t been able to bring myself to go through my husband’s closet yet too many memories.
Dale,
To be honest, I’ve read through your comment several times and am having a hard time finding the right words to reply. Your words paint such a vivid picture of not just feeling loss, but also being lost in the landscape of your life.
I can’t begin to imagine the emotions involved in cleaning out your husband’s closet. Such finality! And then on top of that, to have to pare down a whole house to possibly get ready to move. You are carrying a big, overwhelming load on your shoulders but you are seen. And I’m going to ask everyone who reads your comment and believes in prayer to say a prayer for you during this sad and unsettled season of life.
The Bible says God orders our footsteps and that is my prayer for you today; a clear path for the way ahead and peace to pave that path. 💕
Thanks for sharing what many of us feel and go through with you. Alot changes between 60 and 70 , but we are not the first or the last- Good to know others have passed this way and made it into the golden years by God’s merciful grace. Ruth
Ruth,
Such a good reminder that we are not the first to pass this way. Others have walked these decades with joy and with “God’s merciful grace” we can do the same!
So many reasons to love this golden post! Thank you for sharing and for being so transparent. It’s always helpful to know we’re not alone in whatever season we’re in.
You’ve been on quite a journey since you moved to Charlotte. So many changes on every level. I’m so glad you have had this time to pull back from certain things and just be.
And by just being your wonderful self, you continue to impact the lives of your family, your co-workers and your readers. You are so loved and appreciated! ❤️
Here in my 58th year, I’m living very simply. I’m home most of the time. Taking care of a high maintenance cat and the house is my full time job. I tell the cat she needs to raise my salary but I think it’s still under consideration. You and Ruth are my cherished and only friends.
And it’s ok. I needed some time to pull back and heal too. Not sure if I’ll ever be whole again– I’m certainly not the person I was in younger years. But as Steve has said, we’ve been splattered across the windshield a few times! We’ve got stories to tell, a few dents and bruises and the rose colored glasses got smashed somewhere along the way. But here we are, still standing with some wind left in our sails. Well, maybe not wind but we’ve got a breeze–there’s definitely a breeze!
Thank you again for a beautiful, important post!
Love, Deb
Deb,
“Living very simply” is a skill that many people lose track of. Life is complicated on so many fronts and to deliberately step back for a while can be a good and healing thing. Yes, we have been splattered across the windshield but that’s what gives us our stories, our wisdom, and our compassion.
I don’t think any of us will ever be the person we were in our younger years but my prayer and goal is to be whole in my older years.
I cherish my friendship with you and Ruth as well and also think that cat of yours should definitely give you a raise. 🙂
You and Randy have found a place of peace there in rural Wisconsin. In this season, enjoy the homemaking and the cat-wrangling and continue to rest in the knowledge that healing is sometimes a lifetime pursuit. And that’s okay. Love you!
I too am in the same season, 68. After moving 14 years ago I left behind many friends and have made some friends here, but no one who knows my past, and no one that I can call at the last minute and who will jump up and go somewhere with me. I had never heard of that syndrome before, but I think Sarah summed it up well. There is still much for us 60’s+ to contribute.
Patti,
It is so hard to leave behind friends who, in your words, “know your past.” Those kinds of friends are true treasures.
I think the older we get, the harder it becomes to make friends and yet those later-in-life friendships can be among our best ones.
And yes, we women in our older decades definitely have much to contribute. It’s a matter of finding and sharing the gifts that bring us joy and fulfillment.
I truly understand what you are saying, Becky! I fully retired two years ago and in the process totally lost my self!! I was an Executive Director of a Housing Authority! Not a large one, but I was the boss!! Now, i am just responsible for my husband and my house! And to top that off have had several illnesses and a few broken bones.. I am partaking of Physical Therapy these weeks. I broke the humurous bone in my shoulder. Very painful! I finally have the brace off, but now I am dealing with what they call frozen shoulder!! Anyway, enough of my problems. My faith has pulled me through, thus far! So I will journey on!! Oh and I turn 70 the middle of September!
Vicky,
Yes, retiring from a full time job can be a huge shock to the system. Especially when you were used to being the Big Cheese–that’s a big change of gears.
To top off retiring with temporarily losing areas of your health and physical mobility just makes the transition even more challenging.
It sounds like you are soldiering on (or should I say “shouldering on?”) and allowing your faith to strengthen you for the journey. I think by the time you reach your 70th birthday you will be have very many things to celebrate. Happy early birthday!
When I was going into an office to work, I had a “Thursday outfit.” I’m not sure how it started, but I realized every Thursday I wore a chambray shirt (with super cute balloon sleeves), white capri pants, and a colorful necklace. I decided to just embrace it and see if anyone noticed. No one ever mentioned it! It was also one less decision I had to make every week. 🙂
As someone whose body is also very different now, I understand the difficulty of finding clothes that make me feel good, and buying new clothes has become strategic. It can’t be too low cut or have a v-neck or my scars will show. If it’s too blousy, it hits at my hips and no one needs to emphasize that part of their body.
All of that is to say, I get it. Glad to hear you are taking care of yourself during this season. I think being able to name our emotions is a large part of the working through them. I learned that from Brene Brown.
Courtney,
Brene Brown is a wise woman; I have read several of her books. And I love the thought of naming our emotions thereby making it possible to work on them.
Your Thursday outfit sounds darling; I wish I had something so cute! Balloon sleeves, white capri pants and a colorful necklace? Now you’re talking my language!
I remember going shopping in the months after my mastectomy and it was quite the challenging experience. Whenever I see you on FB you look fabulous so you’re obviously doing something right. Many hugs to you and your sweet family.
Oh Becky, I hear you and see you. As a newly retired 66 year old, who has lost her purpose, has no colleagues that rely on you I hear you. But know this. We are God’s children and while we may not be seen by others we are seen by him. Also, as we get older, I forgot what I wore to work all the time so just know that your coworkers probably can’t remember what you wore to work only that you were there to greet them with your sunny, smile and encouraging words. I hope you find peace and feel of love and prayers from all of us we continue to read your blog. Hugs from Iowa
Marjie,
Newly retired.
Those words can carry all sorts of meaning. For some it means lots of freedom and doing whatever you want and for others, it’s a disconcerting shift in everything familiar. Even after working at my current job for only 2 years, I can imagine how odd it would feel to not come to work and be with all the people I’ve gotten so used to hanging out with.
I hope that these post-retirement days being to transform into a season that will be enjoyable and fulfilling for you.
I appreciate your words of encouragement; they mean so much.
Oh my goodness. I am 64, just retired and you took words and feelings right from my heart. I have not felt good about myself in Very long time due to weight gain and just low self esteem. I like the word season but it feels like my season has lasted a very long time. I was a preachers daughter and was really pushed at times and responsibilities in church that I was not called to. It pushed me away though I never stopped praying or believing. I pray for you and I that this season moves along but for right now know that you and I are loved by great husbands
and kids!
Robin,
You’re so right when you say that some seasons seem very, very long, like a never ending winter of the soul.
Having to do something you don’t feel equipped or called to do just because you’re a preacher’s kid is so unfortunate. I think many PKs and pastor’s wives can feel that way–if there’s a hole, you are expected to fill it. I’m sorry that those early experiences in church culture have made you hesitant to get involved again. There are so many things right about the church but sometimes, sadly, hurt can happen there. (And healing can happen there, too!)
Weight gain and low self esteem seem to go hand in hand, don’t they? And then the whole thing sort of spirals because we eat because we feel bad and we feel bad because we eat (and gain weight) I’ve been right there with you! I don’t have a lot of snazzy answers but I do have understanding and empathy.
I’m glad your family is a strength to you and brings you joy. That makes such a difference in all the (long and short) seasons of life.
I am 66 and in a new phase as we moved a year and a half ago so have not made new friends yet. Thankfully, we have our kids and grandkids close by as well as a sister and brother-in-law who we spend a lot of time with. That is a real luxury that we have never had before and are really enjoying! We have met neighbors but don’t really spend time with any of them.
We are both still healthy and mobile so are blessed to be able to go and do what we want to do. We don’t let a lot of grass grow under our feet. We are each other’s best friend since we don’t have friends here so spend most of our time together. We’re looking forward to golf season and some warmer weather for that!
I have never heard of the Invisible Woman Syndrome. It made me Google it and read about it myself. I’m glad that I have never felt that way.
I feel your wardrobe pain. That emotional eating sneaks up on you…..been there. And the shopping thing and leaving in tears sounds way too familiar too. Like my momma used to say: “This too, shall pass”. You’re beautiful Becky. Your coworkers really don’t care what you wore on what day. Try not to be too hard on yourself. That’s the joy of mix and match! 🙂
LeeAnne,
Making friends in a new place can be tough, can’t it? It’s great you have some family nearby especially when they can do double duty as friends. That’s how we are with having our kids close.
And you are finding a silver lining that, in not having friends right now, you and your husband are growing even closer in your friendship. That’s a good thing!
Yes, shopping is not my favorite thing to do these days. I’ll just wear what I have and concentrate on trying to brighten up peoples’ days! Thanks for your encouragement.
Becky you are beautiful just the way you are. Inside and out.
Glad you are taking time for yourself.
Take care and have a wonderful day.
Joy,
You are so sweet to share your encouragement; thank you!
Becky, I resonate with what you have shared! We find ourselves in a very similar boat!
Nina,
We’ve walked down some similar paths, haven’t we? Bless you, friend.
Thank you for sharing this. I am in a similar season, although for different reasons, and it is nice to hear I am not alone.
Cheryl,
Similar season. Different reason.
What a perfect way to sum why so many readers can relate to this post. The circumstances may be different but so many of the feelings and emotions are the same.
You are NOT alone!
I’m in my last season, aged 81, maybe I have lung cancer, maybe not. My life looks harried. Going to physical therapy 3 days a week, still trying to be more mobile after my femur fracture 2 years ago. As to my lungs, I had my anual Chest CT in January, PET scan a while later, have a CT Guided Percutaneous Lung Right scheduled for tomorrow but I messed up and took an aspirin Friday so not enough days without them, waiting for my pulmonologist’s covering doc to see if I can still have the procedure. My life also looks like a woman constantly on the phone or holding on wait with medical people or facilities. Aren’t you glad you asked?
Jan,
It is always a joy to get one of your comments. No matter what you are going through in life, your bright spirit and humor always shine through. And yes, I AM glad I asked because now I get to caught up with you and your life a little.
Maybe having or maybe not having lung cancer is an unsettling space to be living in. I’m so sorry your procedure (which I had to Google) needed to be postponed. Waiting on medical news is so very difficult, as I know from experience. (Who knew taking one aspirin would create such a fuss?)
Blessings on you in this season of your 80’s and grace to you as you wait on results, wait on the phone, and deal with all the medical people and facilities that somehow keep showing up in your life! You are a funny, brave, wise woman and, as you traverse this landscape, don’t you forget it!
I feel you girl!! I will be 70 this year… wow, did I say that??? I am now a full time caregiver for my hubby of 52 years and will continue until I can’t. I have lost myself in this valley. I take care of all his needs and the house and the dog and do all the shopping and pay all the bills. I go to church on Sunday mornings for preaching service if he is having an ok day to leave him sleeping on the couch for a little while but like yesterday, I missed going because…well, allergies and a UTI have made me feel blah. I work puzzles, read, play on Facebook and wonder what I will cook for supper every night this week. So much fun I can’t control myself. But…. I am blessed going and a coming. God has blessed us and I am truly thankful that I am able to do what I do and know that He will keep me going until I can’t. I miss going to church on Sunday nights and Wed. nights and all the get togethers our Sunday School class has. I know this is just a season in my life and I soak it in while I can. I know things will change down this road. God is good and I praise Him every day.
Kaye,
“I have lost myself in this valley.” What an interesting and accurate way to describe where you are in life right now. The thing about valleys is that even though you know there is life beyond the mountains, you can’t see it, hear it, or experience it. But you know it’s there and you will leave that valley when the time is right.
I love that you said you are soaking in this season while you can. You know that God’s faithfulness and strength will be new for you and your sweet husband each day. Hugs.