Someone once said, “Good friends are like quilts – they age with you, yet never lose their warmth.” You are probably like myself. Both you and I have seen too many friends leave this world, too soon, before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. I got this from a friend and want to pass it along.
Whose business is it, if I choose to read, or play on the computer, until 4 AM, or sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 50s, 60s, and 70s, 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 that 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 loose 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 gives you 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, yes, 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’m 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 and the pickle queen lets me).
Keep your fork