Friday is my birthday. Usually, Ken and I would go out for supper, but not this year with COVID-19. Our family gathering at a restaurant with cake at home afterward won’t happen either. Even without the normal celebrations, I consider myself lucky to have another birthday. Every morning, I thank God and utter my mantra, “Today we’re okay.” I’m still not convinced I’m an octogenarian,
I’ve adjusted to being the oldest person in the room when meeting with a group of scribblers. That’s one of the great things about writing–as long as my mind and my fingers work, I can continue.
I’m encouraged by three prominent women who are in their eighties and active in their professions: Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, 87; English actress Judi Dench, 85; and Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi, 80. I think some of the so-called jokes about aging perpetuate the stereotype of inept, older people.
Ken recently remarked about an old woman talking to him in Galena. Our adult grandson, Jacob, asked, “What’s old to you, Grandpa?”
My definition has changed over the years. As a teenager, my parents pushing forty seemed old. When I received my first AARP discount at fifty, seventy was over the hill. Now, I look at a person’s actions. Some people seem to be practicing to be elderly. They’re the ones whose favorite saying is, “At our age, we shouldn’t be doing that.”
I’m reminded of “Satchell” Paige, a major league baseball pitcher, noted for his longevity in the game during the 1940s. He said, “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?” In my mind, I’m 45 and that doesn’t change. I don’t know why I picked that age–it makes me younger than our children.
To echo “Satchell” Paige, how old do you think you are?”
I’m a writer, a compiler of genealogy books and darn glad to have , at least, most of my faculties because I have had aunts with dementia, and currently a couple of cousins in that state. Janice and I thank our lucky stars every day that so far, we are OK.
I have a lot of arthritis (that runs in our families too) so that makes me look (when I walk) older than I feel mentally. I mourn the good athletic body that I once had, but I celebrate the four genealogy books (Hasselman, Asbach, Nigbor & Waldorf) that I have residing in various libraries with another one on the way. I guess no one can have it all.
I agree, none of us has it all.