70 ... Is this YOUR
I just wanted to let you know I have entered the Snapdragon stage of my life. Part of me has snapped. And the rest of me is draggin'.
As I enter my 71st year I tend to look back on the yesteryears to the days when as a young lad we had the bread delivered by a man with a horse and cart. The butcher boy rode a horse with a huge wicker basket over his arm. The milk man had his horse and cart with the bulk milk in large cans and it wasn't pasteurised unless you? took into account the fact that the cows had walked through the paddocks of verdant grass (pastures) and we are all still alive today to prove that some where some one has got it all wrong. Or have they?
The other day a young lady asked me how I felt about being old. I was taken aback, for I do not think of myself as old at 70. 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. So here is my reply to her and anyone else who is interested.
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, what there are of them, the baggy eyes, and the sagging waistline. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror (who looks like my father!), 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 what there is left of it, 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 biscuit, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement Buddha that I didn't need, but looks so welcome on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant.
I have seen too many dear friends to 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, not that it happens so often anyway?
I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 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 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, 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. (If I feel like it)
May our friendship never come apart especially when it's straight from the heart!
May you always have a rainbow of smiles on your face and in your heart forever and ever! friends forever!
John, "The Old Goat"
"With out your imagination,
You will never make the world laugh"