GETTING OLDER

By Kathleen Wrigley

Well, I turned 50. A new decade. Older. Wiser. More wrinkled.

I am passive-aggressively sifting through reflections that come with this middle-aged milestone.

For fun, I re-read my very first “On the Minds of Moms” column, “Rollin’ with the Punches.” I wrote that debut column 11 years ago as a token for my kids prior to a landmark date in my

history: brain surgery on September 1, 2009.

Penning that piece was for our children, Quinn, Patrick and Harper, to document how significant and whole they make me. Eleven years later, here is the sequel, “Rollin’ with the Wrinkles.”

Wrinkles and dimples — in all the wrong places — are a natural part of aging. There are multi

bazillion dollar businesses built around smoothing out the lines in an effort to . . . what? Pretend they don’t matter? Or perhaps to erase the past? As if it were that easy.

Believe me, I get it. I spend whole minutes smearing anti-aging creams over the cracks and crevices of my face, neck and hands, trying to reverse the years of skin-damaging, baby-oillathering sunbathing.

The skin exposes age blemishes. Other wrinkles are buried deep in the cracks of the heart.

Rollin’ with the Wrinkles

Matters of the heart create hidden marks and knobs of pain. Suffering comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes and is part of the privilege of aging. Everyone has a story, sometimes leaving wrinkles on our hearts.

A Bismarck writer and television personality recently asked me to be part of a panel to share the journey of my wrinkled heart. She said it would help others. The request took my breath away. Although touched by the invitation, I politely declined.

I have built some hefty gates around this vital organ these last few years, which goes against every grain of my being. The specifics are unnecessary here, but the painstaking process of healing and mending the broken pieces is critical.

Does the heart have to be fully intact before helping others? The flight attendants tell us to “put your own oxygen mask on before helping others.” Some hurts will change the landscape of our hearts forever. Do we suffer a lifetime without helping our neighbors? Heck, no.

Suffering is a bad word in our society. Plug your ears. Gate your hearts. Do not talk about matters of the heart. Often people would prefer not to listen to private heartache. Let the social media highlight reel roll. Ultimately the results can be devastating. Silent suffering with wrinkled hearts. We march on, hurting, nevertheless pretending. The restrictions make us bitter, not better. The pain ensues and then multiplies.

This is not God’s will. Recovery and healing are excruciatingly raw and soulful chapters.

Whatever the circumstances, healing is our responsibility. That process ultimately falls on our shoulders. Healing belongs to us. Maya

Angelou once said, “I can be changed by what support groups. Suffering and healing gives us happens to me, but I refuse to be reduced by it.” freedom to open our wrinkled hearts and be raw The path to healing is full of humongous potholes, and vulnerable. steep hills and dark valleys. The journey fools us Recovered crumpled hearts know the infectious into feeling lonely. Climb out of the hole, friend. beauty of joy and peace. Wrinkly souls are Find another course. There is help. empathetic and know how to comfort others. There is hope. Squint to see the light. Human Hurt hearts roll with the wrinkles. beings waste gobs of time and energy on A friend once likened suffering in life to the trying to make sense of our suffering. We want elements of a pearl: a unique gem created by answers: how, why and when will it stop hurting? another living creature, formed when something It is exhausting and shoves us back into the black harmful enters the host oyster, formed in a cold hole of despair. and dark place, takes years to mature — maybe We are not called to make sense of (fill in your blank). We cannot control anyone but ourselves. even five decades — and the pearl coats an irritant with a layer of nacre, turning it into a mother-of-pearl, bringing beauty Our response to struggles gives Suffering from the irritant that was meant us power. We were created to live fully alive, not to wither and hide. I understand. Shrinking feels safe. It is a trap. Do not fall for it. I have coaxed, from the edge, comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes and is part of the to harm it. Women. Moms. (Dads, too, if you are reading.) You may be celebrating the absolute privilege of smearing anti-aging creams on women left in heaps of wrinkles privilege of your face, neck and hands to iron on the floorboards in fetal positions, literally. One of those women-friends sent me a quote aging. Everyone has a story, out the surface wrinkles. Slather on. from the wise and wrinkled sometimes Work on the private wrinkles, warrior and author, Brene Brown. It reads, “One day you will tell your story of how you overcame leaving wrinkles on our hearts. too. Get help. Seek joy. You are not alone. Take the time you need to heal. There is no statute of what you went through and it will limitations on healing. It may be a be someone else’s survival guide.” messy process, one step forward, This. I am barely qualified to write this column, sometimes two steps back. Pursue peace. Find let alone any life guide. But it has dawned on me, your tribe of wrinkled soul sisters who will help perhaps I — no, we — can help one another rise you laugh, let you cry and lift you up. by sharing our sufferings, our wrinkles and our In 2009, just before being released from the stories … by celebrating our similarities and our Neuro-Intensive Care Unit at the National differences, by showing up. Not shirking. Brain neurysm Center in St. Paul, Minnesota, Wrinkled hearts are part of the human my neurosurgeon gifted me with a brief and experience. Commemorating a fifth decade on deliberate lifetime prescription: “Go and live.” And this earth has thrust me forward, reflecting on roll with the wrinkles that come with the absolute the wrinkles from a rearview mirror. But more privilege of aging. Carry on, Wrinkled Warriors. importantly, my milestone birthday has taught me that wisdom comes through suffering. Kathleen Wrigley is a wife, mom and advocate. She is made Suffering teaches us to learn and grow, to lean with equal amounts of grace and grit, with gobs of giggles into our resources: faith, friends, counselors, and gratitude.