‘Old Age’
Tuesday, May 27th, 2008A colleague forwarded this to me. A nice way of packaging "old age". (Now I wonder if it’s an indirect reminder of how fast I am aging in this organization. HELP!hehehe)
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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 60&70’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
.
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, 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)
