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,
he was immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it was an interesting
question, and I would ponder it, and let him 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, 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 grey 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 overeat, 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
a.m, and sleep until noon?
I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60'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 bikini 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 a 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 turn grey, 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. I can say "no," and mean it. I can say "yes." and mean it.
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.