Residing at an independent living community, I find that we, the residents, all have one thing in common. We are all getting old(er). Most of us are surprised at how the aging process has snuck up on us, and at how quickly it did so. In my twenties, it was my generation that coined the phrase, “Don’t trust anyone over 30!” I remember looking forward to the year 2000 and realizing I would be in my 40’s. My mind froze, thinking about how I would be almost dead at that age. Now, here I am at 71, defying the odds of that young person. Hah!
Most of us oldies have gained a great deal of wisdom. On the inside, we have aged like fine wine, even though the outside has gained dust and cobwebs. Many young people have not discovered the precious insights, available for the asking. Many of the aged wise have learned to be silent, hidden away in the cellar of life, accepting that what they have to offer may be lost to the world. This is sad. This is the way of the world. This is a good time to move on to something else.
My baby brother just turned 65. I didn’t feel old until I realized that. Again, moving on. His daughter, my beautiful and talented niece, got married a year or so ago. They live near Boston, MA. She sent him a birthday card but asked him not to open it until they could Facetime. I do not have an iPhone, so FaceTime is just something I barely understand the concept of. I assume it is closely related to WhatsApp, which I do have. Instructed to read out loud, my brother slowly read through all the ‘gentle’ jokes about getting older, wincing as though he was in pain with each jab. My nephew, young, strong, also brilliant and talented, and maybe just a little impatient, read through to the end. Suddenly, my nephew jumped out of his seat, making my brother look at him with those questioning (glaring) 65-year-old eyes that we elders tend to show. My nephew grabbed the card and showed it to my sister-in-law, who was dutifully holding the iPhone up to record everything. She scanned and read to the end (she is obviously a little younger than my brother). There were screams and yelps and a very shaky recording of my truly perplexed, seemingly spacey (sorry bro) brother being handed back the card. He continued to read slowly and carefully. That habit alone drives young people crazy! When he finally arrived at the end and read the words, “Happy Birthday GRANDPA” his face formed into a million-dollar smile. A 65-year-old man sat there, tears welling in his eyes and happy words spilling out of his mouth. Of course, he never actually cried. 65-year-old men do not cry on camera. But it was close.
So, life is not fair. It moves forward, dragging us, kicking and screaming, into old age. But then it delightfully surprises us with new life, just like the foam overflowing at the top of a rootbeer float, only better.
In my aging, and almost infinite wisdom, I have one thing to say. Planning for a baby to arrive after Hurricane Season, and before the snow – brilliant!
Of course, my niece takes after me.
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