"Old Age" is a Gift

The other day a little boy asked me how I felt about being old. At first, I was taken aback because I do not think of myself as that old. Then I realized that it was an interesting question and I decided to ponder it and write this blog. It is my birthday on Monday and I am entering my 45th year on this planet!

To start with, I would never trade my friends, my life, or my family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I get older, I am finding it easier to be positive. I care less about what other people think. I do not question myself as much because I have earned the right to be wrong occasionally. I try not to reprimand myself for eating an extra cookie, for not making my bed, or for buying yet another pair of shoes that I did not need. I am entitled to treat myself, to be messy, and to be extravagant from time to time. I have seen far too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair sprinkled with gray and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face.

Yes, sometimes I am forgetful. Then again, some of life is just as well forgotten, but eventually I do remember most of the important things! Sure, over the years my heart has been broken many times. Nevertheless, broken hearts are what give us strength, understanding, and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect. You see, as I have aged, I have tried to become kinder to myself and less critical at the same time. In reality, I have become my own friend.

I have decided that “old age” is a gift and I am now, probably for the first time in my life, on the verge of becoming the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body of course! I sometimes still anguish over my physical appearance - the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and yes, the saggy butt. Many mornings I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror (who looks like my parents), but I do not agonize over it very long.  So, to answer that little boys question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I am becoming. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting on what could have been, or worrying about what will be.

Getting Older and Wiser

Next month, I will be another year older. I remember when I turned ten and I thought that I was a “big” girl that knew everything. Those teen years brought raging hormones, horrible acne and insecurities about my body, some of which I still struggle with today. In my twenties, my body turned from pubescent to womanly and I discovered the laws of gravity. To be honest, I really struggled when I turned thirty because I suddenly realized that I was getting older even if I did not feel old. Turning thirty meant that there was no turning back and hitting the “re-do” button. I told myself that I needed to stop saying, “I wish I could” and start doing what I wanted to do because I finally felt that life was REALLY too short to have regrets. When I turned forty a few years ago, I finally stopped counting the years. Honestly, I really forget now what my true age is without doing the math…and I hate math! I tell myself daily that I am only as old as I feel and I am determined to age gracefully because there really is not any other option. I will not do plastic surgery or have Botox because I am too much of a chicken. I will embrace my fine lines and age spots with an understanding that I have earned all of them. I know I cannot compete with the body of a twenty year old, but can she compare in either the confidence or knowledge that I finally have? I guess there is something worse than having another birthday…not having any more birthdays. Yes, I am getting older and I am going to embrace it because there is no stopping it.