12/13/09 Sometimes Maxine Says It Better!

The other day a bunch of us were sitting around and talking about getting older and what it meant to each of us. At fifty five I don't particularly think of myself as "aged" although my little brother is probably sitting at his computer reading this right now going, "Oh yeah? Wanna bet?" and that's OK cause that's what little brothers do. Especially smart ass little brothers!

Today I received this email that "Maxine" wrote. I agree with it wholeheartedly even though it doesn't exactly apply to me.....yet.

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair (this does not apply, I have very little gray) or a flatter belly. (Well, I would definitely trade an acquaintance for a flatter belly) As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, (or two, or three or the whole damn bag) 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. (Oh yeah!)

I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. (Yes, even at this age we've lost friends much too soon)

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, (oh this is so me!) and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will. (and have)

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, (Whoa, Max, I think "bulging" is taking it a bit far!) and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, (Uh, I don't think so! I hate that sticky feeling after swimming in the ocean) in spite 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, (TURNING being the operative word here!) and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. (Uh-uh, deep grooves does not apply!)
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. (My glass is ALWAYS half full and most of the time two thirds!) You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong. (And once in a great while, I even am!) So, to answer your question, I like being old. (Again, I think that terminology is a bit strong) 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). (And twice on Sunday's!)

So this is pretty much how I feel about this time in my life. Maxine, you are right on girl!