Ocean View

When I was a child, I thought as a child. When I became a <woman>… The Apostle Paul was speaking about growing up physically and spiritually. As an older adult, I see even deeper implications. I now live in an independent living apartment. I pay for the perks, like weekly housekeeping and restaurant-style meals, where I don’t even have to do the dishes. I keep a broom and dishsoap for when I want to clean or cook, and can use my extra cash for a massage or haircut. I am free to walk out the door, get in my car, and drive to the grocery store, Home Depot, Ross, the movies, the beach, and can even keep driving 5,000 miles across country. When I return, I have a key and a fob to let myself back in, 24 hours a day. I am 70. My mother was fully independent until she was 90. That is a good sign for me. I’ll let you know if anything changes.

Mom had two cars to drive, one of which was a lovely hardtop convertible. And drive them she did, until she was 90. That’s when her pesky, oldest child announced that she could no longer drive. I’m sorry, but making left turns from the middle ‘through’ lane is, and never has been, allowed in this country. That meant I needed to be there to drive her, for business and for fun. I never minded. She was worth it. But it meant her independence was limited to home. It’s not fair but life is, so often, not fair.

When I moved in here, being the shy, introvert that I am (cough, cough), I walked up to a friendly-looking woman and asked if I could sit next to her. She became my first friend here, and we would have dinner together six days a week. She is a delicate little lady physically, but she is strong and historically independent, having started a business that thrives, even today, under the continued management of her children. Things have recently changed since her latest fall. It always begins with THE FALL! Within a month, she has decided, with positive, family reinforcement, to move in with her daughter and granddaughter, whom she adores. She will be gone in four days. No one asked me. She will be here for one last dinner. We will have a balloon and cake. And you thought old people didn’t know how to party.

Getting old is nothing new. It starts in your forties. Don’t believe me? Try pulling out a heavy suitcase from your car trunk without a rather strong “Umphhh!” You did not do that in your 30’s. King Solomon once said, “There is nothing new under the sun.” In a strange way, I actually find that rather comforting. Aging is not aiming at me personally. We are all, eventually, in the same boat.

When you are a child, you play hard. When you become an adult, you work hard. When you become 70 you realize how important minutes and moments are. They are here, they are important, and then they move on. If we realize that and walk, or ride, around the next corner of life, exploring, we will find something new. When we sit and hold on to a life we can no longer physically, monetarily, or emotionally afford, life will not wait for us. It will move on.

I think of life this way. I am at the ocean. I have two choices: walk on the beach to my left or walk on the beach to my right. The left is where my memories are. I walk to the left and eventually, I find giant rocks that hinder my moving forward. I sit and think of all the life I have experienced. At some point, I know that it is time to walk the other way, towards life and towards my future. There is mist coming off the ocean, making it hard to see too far ahead. But, as I move on, I discover beautiful sea shells and flying creatures that I would have missed, sitting under the giant rocks of my memories.

I have already promised my friend occasional lunches out, with a slice of shopping for dessert.

We will both walk the right side of the coastline, and into the promising mist.