Discussions

The other day a young waitress asked me how I felt about being old. I was a little shocked, for I do not think of myself as being 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 sometimes despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the knee replacement.  
Often, I am taken a back by that old senior person who lives in my mirror, and who resembles my Grandfather, but I do not agonize over those things for long.  
On the other hand, the remaining knee that I was borne with is a more accurate meteorologist than Sylvia Kuzyk on CTV.  
No body expects me to run anymore, and I no longer consider the speed limit a challenge.  
I will never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, and my loving family for more hair, what’s left is died, or a flatter belly.  
As I’ve aged I’ve become kinder to myself, and less critical, 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 gnome that I don’t need, but looks so avante garde on my Patio.  
I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, and to be extravagant.  
I have seen too many friends leave this world early, long before they understood the great freedom that comes with ageing.  
Whose business is it if I choose to watch TV or play on my Computer until 4 a.m. and sleep until Noon? My children call me anyway at 9 a.m. and ask, “Did I wake you?”  
I can eat supper at 4 p.m. if I want to, that’s when Smitties Senior supper special starts.  
I will sing with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60’s and 70’s, and if I at the same time, wish to shed a tear for a lost love…. I will.  
I will walk on the beach in a swim suite that is stretched over a bulging stomach, and I will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from members of the Jet Set. For I know they too, will get old.  
I know I am sometimes forgetful, but then again, some of life’s experiences are just as well forgotten. I do eventually remember the important things.  
Sure over the years my Heart has been broken. How can your Heart not break when you loose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when a car hits somebody’s beloved pet? But broken Hearts are what give us strength, understanding, and compassion. A Heart that has never been 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 become follicle challenged on my head, but to have hair growing on every other part of the rest of my body, and to have my youthful laughs forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver or fall out.  
I finally get back more money than I pay in premiums for my health insurance and Blue Cross.  
I am an expert on Pension Plans and R.R.S.P.’s and get into heated arguments with other self proclaimed experts who do not agree with me.  
People no longer consider me a Hypochondriac. I really do need to take all those pills.  
As I get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what people think. I don’t question myself anymore. I’ve even earned the right to be wrong.  
To be old is to have to post your complaints on ebrandon, hoping someone will read it and be able to fix it.  
I can now buy things that will last for a lifetime.  
So to answer your question Christine: 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 over what could have been, or worrying about what will be.