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Is Age a Gift?

July 30th, 2008 · No Comments

I received this via email…..

Age, I decided, is a gift.

Age 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.

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 the 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)

Tags: On The Road

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