"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.