Food For Thought

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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 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 (who looks like my mother!), 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 gray 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 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 AM

and sleep until noon ?

I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60&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.