OLD AGE
The other day a
young person asked
me how I felt
about being old. I
was taken aback,
for I do not think
of myself as old.
Upon seeing my
reaction, she was
immediately
embarrassed, but I
explained that it
was an interesting
question, and I
would ponder it,
and let her know.
Old age, I
decided, is a
gift. I am now,
probably for the
first time in my
life, the person I
have always wanted
to be. Oh, not my
body! I sometime
despair over my
body- the
wrinkles, the
baggy eyes, and
the sagging butt.
And often I am
taken aback by
that old person
that lives in my
mirror, but I
don't agonize over
those things for
long.
I would never
trade my amazing
friends, my
wonderful life, my
loving family for
less gray hair or
a flatter belly.
As I've aged, I've
become
more kind to
myself, and less
critical of
myself. I've
become my own
friend. 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
avant garde on my
patio. I am
entitled to
overeat, to be
messy, to be
extravagant. I
have seen too many
dear friends leave
this world too
soon; before they
understood the
great freedom that
comes with aging.
Whose business is
it if I choose to
read until 4 a.m,
and sleep until
noon? I will dance
with myself to
those wonderful
tunes of the 50's,
and if I at the
same time wish to
weep over a lost
love, I will. 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 bikini s!
et. They, too,
will get old.
I know I am
sometimes
forgetful. But
there again, some
of life is just as
well forgotten -
and I eventually
remember the
important things.
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 a 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.
I am so blessed to
have lived long
enough to have my
hair turn 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.
I can say "no",
and mean it. I can
say "yes", and
mean it. 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.
So, to answer your
question, 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.
Courtesy Of:
Crocagator@att.net
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Memories Of Yesteryear~ Old Woman
From
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