I Wasted My 70’s…
Thinking I was OLD!
If you, Dear Reader, are in your 30’s or 40’s, you must be chuckling because to you being 70 seems indeed old. Let me disavow you of that thinking.
As I look back at the last nine years, I see all of the things I have accomplished, and even things I endured. I had the stamina for both scenarios. If I had not been fast-forwarding my thoughts to “undoubtedly” impending death, I could have done even more.
I am reminded of the children’s book about the little locomotive who encouraged himself to great achievements by chanting to himself, “I think I can! I think I can!” chug chug chug…up the hill he went.
I now realize that I “got through” most of my 70’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. I thought I was encouraging myself when I chanted, “I’m only as old as I act” and “I will get through this next thing and then see if I can go on.” I kept waiting for them to wheel me out, feet first.
Now I am one year from the BIG 80. Yes, I have a few more wrinkles. Yes, I sometimes can’t find the word I need. BUT, as my doctor reminded me, I am nowhere near putting my car keys in the freezer and upon finding them not remembering what they are for!
I keep remembering Dylan Thomas’s oft-quoted words that we should “not go gentle into that good night” and “rage against the dying of the light.” In other words, keep living until you die.
And that’s what I intend to do. I have made some headway on improving my health this last decade. This I will continue. I have befriended many new people. This too I will continue. I have put out my memoir ten years in the writing. And writing I must continue.
I have precious little time with my eleven grandkids whom are all growing up much faster than I would have liked. I prioritize having time with them and my children. This I will continue.
I do feel there is more urgency to my existence as did poet John Keats when he penned his famous words, “When I have fears that I may cease to be, before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain.” My mind is so full of words yet to be written. Keats was given only 26 years on this slippery orb. I have been given almost 80, so far.
So, Watch Out 80! As I enter your decade, I come robust and fighting. I come loving widely and writing madly.
Be encouraged Octogenarians. If 70 was the new 50, 80 is the new 60! Remember when you thought 60 was old!