The Gift Called Old Age

“Old age is when you still have something on the ball, 


But you are just too tired to bounce it!” ~ Author Unknown



As my husband and I approach the years that were promised to be “golden,” mourning the loss of his parents and watching mine go into assisted living, the prospect of aging looks daunting to say the least. Recently I received the following email message, forwarded from a friend. It’s just too good not to share. I was unable to discover it’s original author, but the message truly resonated within me. The timing to read this could not have been more perfect. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!



The Gift Called 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’ve 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 sometimes despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt . . . and that old person that lives in my mirror often startles me! However I don't agonize over these 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 have aged I've become kinder and less critical of myself. I've become my own best 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 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 4:00 a.m. and sleep until noon?

I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60's and 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. They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful, but there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And eventually I 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 when a beloved pet gets hit by a car? However 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 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 because 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)!

To all the Golden Oldies: “May you always have a rainbow of smiles on your face and in your heart forever!”