Most of us get e-mail forwards. Some are priceless and some are mediocre, but this one on old age is one I found interesting. It doesn’t fit all of us, although the point, I’m sure is to make us feel better about the process. There are, of course, some uncertainties about the re-use of these little stories, but I believe that as soon as some writing goes into outer space via our computers, and there’s no identifying author, its open season on reuse. So this will be my Thursday morning take on aging. Every day is different, thank goodness. This morning I awoke to an early morning call from an older brother, telling us that my beloved sister in law was taken to the hospital late last evening, situation unknown. So this morning is vastly different than the mornings my husband whispers "Spudnut" in my ear.
You see, we have a favorite coffee shop called the Spudnut Shop. Can’t figure out where they got that name, other than the fact that it’s been in the same location, in the same family for over 50 years and for more than 50 years they’ve been producing spudnuts which far exceed Crispy Creams. A spudnut, made at the Spudnut Shop with potato flour, deep fried in 100% zero transfats is something I will happily allow myself from time to time.
I say all that to say this – old age, in my estimation, is very unpredictable. I will insert my own thoughts in italics throughout this writing, so as to not infringe on the thoughts of the original writer.
I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometimes despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging sit-down parts. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror (who looks like my mother!) but I don't agonize over those things for long. OK – I do despair over my body ~ it just doesn’t do the things as quickly or painlessly as at age 50 or even 60! It takes longer to get dressed since the "oldness" feels so "old" first thing in the morning – and the decisions; shall I wear this pair of slacks today, or that sweatshirt? Oh, my goodness, what will I do with my hair!
I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, and my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. Actually, I’ve become disappointed in my limitations – and frustrated at having more and more routine chores done for me. (Well, that is, when I can find someone to help out!) Life has become so filled with demands; many self imposed, many imposed by others or circumstances there’s actually little time for the elderly. That is very sad. We still have much to offer if allowed. Is not wisdom found among the elderly (Job)?
I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant. This much has not changed with age ~ I pretty well eat what I wish as long as it’s wholesome and nutritious; sometimes I don’t make my bed. After all, it will just get messed up again at nap time and after 57 years of marriage; I really don’t need the practice.
I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. With this I can totally agree. It was the death of a very fine young father almost two years ago which was the encouragement we needed to begin our funeral plans. This was probably the most difficult time – deciding who’s to have the final decision making power, etc. But we got through it just in time for the annual update! Well, that’s good; our children won’t be burdened with much except the crying……..
Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon? Well, this is true – when I got my first personal computer my dear husband thought I’d changed spouses. Last Christmas we decided to start downsizing by buying a good notebook, which sets on ‘his’ desk. Now I’m having the pc widow blues.
I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60’s, 70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love I will. My parents would not allow us to learn to dance, so my only dancing has been "in my head" – and I love music. And yes, I’ve grieved over lost love. But in the end-run, the trade-off was fantastic! God gave me the best husband he could find!
I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old. Whoa….Not really sure about this one – Have you noticed that swim suits for "older ladies" are almost as risqué as for the younger set? Perhaps I’d test the water in a pair of cuts offs – but the swim suit would be a stretch -
I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things. Truth is, I’ve been a little forgetful for a long time. But some things ARE best forgotten. As long as the heart is at peace, the brain just needs to fall in line, right? Besides, calendars are for remembering things – why clutter the mind? Enjoy the sunshine on a November day, whip up some enthusiasm for the winter; being grumpy about it won’t change God’s plans.
Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect. What is most heartbreaking? For me, it’s an empty mail box day after day – the phone call which doesn’t come, except for favors or emergencies? Sure, you know your children and grandchildren care about you – but why is it so easy for them to be so self-indulgent? I keep reminding younger people that some day they, too, will be old if God grants them that privilege.
When my very small grandchildren or great-grandchildren say, "Here Grandma, you hold my hand while we go up the steps so you don’t fall" I find it incredibly sweet and thoughtful. Then my heart skips a quick beat as I remember that not too long ago it was just the reverse – I was holding their hand going up the steps, or climbing over the rocks on a leisurely walk in the woods. So – is it always wonderful to be one of the aging? Not really.
I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. How blessed we really are!
As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong. Yippee~
So, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day. (If I feel like it) I especially like the dessert part –
I’m reminded of the scripture: "Is not wisdom found among the aged? Does not long life bring understanding?" Job 12:12
So, there is some entitlement in spite of the aching feet, tired minds – so until next time take life one step at a time. I end with this wonderful word from Prov 16:31-33: "Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained by living a godly life. It is better to be patient than powerful; it is better to have self-control than to conquer a city. We may throw the dice, but the Lord determines how they fall." It really is a privilege to be "older" however it’s certainly a challenge to remember that at times! Have a wonderful Christmas Holiday.
