Growing older

Some days, I can’t wait to be old.

To push my walker to the grocery store and watch kind people step out of my way. To chat with an old friend about aches, pains and loved ones. To fumble with a cell phone–or whatever device the younger generation will be using by then–pressing one deliberate button at a time and still contacting the wrong person. To love and invest in the next generation or two…or three. To be able to lounge in an easy chair with a cup of tea and a book without anyone expecting anything else of me. To stop trying to be eternally young and just get to be who I am, wrinkles and all. To daily remember that age is a passage-way. I can even imagine myself enjoying being an elderly single–not having my own to belong to and therefore belonging to everyone.

Most days I still pull out those grays and keep limber with walks and stretches. And I forget that I’m not 18 anymore (until I meet an 18-year-old). But I want to stop dreading old age. Stop making negative predictions like, “If I’m already this feeble, I’ll never even make it to 60!”

Aging is hard. It’s not all cups of tea and good books. It can be chronic pain and loneliness. Is that what scares us?

I decided years ago that I wanted to age gracefully. Now that aches and pains have reminded me that “old age” isn’t too far away, I wonder if I have any idea what “aging gracefully” even means.

But just maybe it starts with anticipating rather than dreading the inevitable and being exactly, exactly in the age I am right now.