When people hit a certain age, all of the extras seem to have been burned off them by life, and the person remains, just them. Watching the process can be fascinating.
Yesterday was a Red Hat lunch, women of no longer tender years, just getting together for fun. I have only been to a few, but find them most interesting. Most are friendly and outgoing. A minority not. The basic person is becoming clearer in some, but they are years away from that final stage.
One who fascinates me, was apparently quite a beauty in her younger days and married a famous man. Both now are gone, the man can be remembered in his recordings, the beauty is seen in fleeting glimpses. She still acts proud, though you can see she is still depending on those two highlights of her life to give her validity.
One who seems rather British-upper-crust, is at heart a warm and very friendly person, still sometimes missing her husband who has only been dead for a few years. She and her buddy are learning how to book foreign trips for themselves, and get very funny retelling their experiences.
Another is bombastic, she recently trained as a chef, and now tells us exactly what is wrong with each restaurant. She doesn’t really seem able to find the best at each and just enjoy that. What a waste is what I always feel around her.
A one new to me yesterday, around my age, also still working. She is torn in several ways, her home country, now out of her reach to return for financial and personal reasons. She doesn’t say so, but somehow you sense it. So happy to share photos of her daughters, the pride of her life. Pretty girls. Getting a glimpse of someone else’s happy family is always pleasant.
Another who seems a bit vague but very pleasant, but when I had a funny turn and had to go and lie down, suddenly showed some steel and would not let me leave until she was sure I was ok again. But she sat with me, gently talking and keeping me company. A rare soul that.
The queen bee, a smart older woman, runs her home and garden with efficiency. Keeps the organisation of the lunches going. Who plans the next lunch, who has all the contact numbers. Sharp as a button, and funny with it.
Women, each so different, each special in her own way. At their ages often ignored by most of society, yet the time with them is always such good fun that I wonder at the blindness that so often excludes them.