C Nash
Senior Member
>>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 (who looks like my mother!), 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
>>avante
>>garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, 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 or play on the computer until 4
>>AM
>>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 jet set.
>>
>>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
>>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.
>>
>>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.
>>
>>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. (If I feel like
>>it)
>>
>>
>>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 (who looks like my mother!), 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
>>avante
>>garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, 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 or play on the computer until 4
>>AM
>>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 jet set.
>>
>>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
>>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.
>>
>>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.
>>
>>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. (If I feel like
>>it)
>>
>>
