OK, in honor of being absolutely truthful (you can stop rolling your eyes now) there really are many joys to be found/discovered as one moves into the doddering years.
Well, there’s one of the joys right there. Webster defines “doddering” as being unsteady on one’s feet. You might as well print that one right across my forehead. I know, I know. Knee surgery is on the list! But … and herein lies the joy part … I do have places to which I aspire to dodder. I appreciate the fact that I have places to go and people to see. And as a bonus, some are even glad to see me. I may take longer to get there. Heck no, I WILL take longer to get there, but I have someplace I need/want to be when I do get there. That is truly a blessing.
YEA!!
And I’m not as careful about what I say anymore, either. I know others probably tsk tsk and whisper to one another, “Well, you just have to forgive her. She’s oooold, you know!” I love that! Irreverence has always been part of my lexicon, but I used to feel guilty about it. Kinda. Not anymore! Not even ‘kinda.’ I’m comfortable enough with me that I give me permission to be irreverent. In fact, I RELISH it! I have lived long enough and seen enough to really understand that there is TRULY “nothing new under the sun” — so my irreverent thoughts are probably no great news to the universe.
Oh, and yes, I cry … a LOT! Old people get emotional, you know. But then, I’ve always been a crier. My mother liked to say and I just filled up to my eyeballs then ran over. Or to put it another way, my husband liked to declare that I’d even cry at a stop light. But if I ever felt apologetic about it … I don’t anymore. People tend to forgive old folk for getting emotional.
And here’s to being a teacher. Yes, I’ve been a teacher the majority of my life, but I find that my teaching these days includes information I’ve garnered from a broad spectrum of experience. Sometimes stuff comes out of my mouth that I didn’t know 40 or 50 (or 60) years ago. Sometimes I can’t tell you where I learned something, but other times I can recall vividly when and where I figured something out which turned out to be pertinent to the subject at hand. I think most people that have inhabited this planet for an extended period of time have pertinent information to share. The listener just has to get past the, “… I remember whens.”
In regard to that subject: On one recent visit, one of my children said to me, “Mom, can we just have a moratorium on ‘I remembers’ until after 10 a.m.?” I guess they felt they needed their coffee wits about them in order to absorb all the pithy wisdom that was being dispensed. Or not.
Oh, I know I’ll hear some of you say that bit about being as old as you feel. But ask any senior and they’ll tell you that it all depends on when are asking. Getting out of bed in the morning can be 30 or 40 years different than after my second cup of coffee.
And then there’s this: The average age of the population is getting older, right along with me … which means I’m getting more and more company into this old-age club. I also recognize the fact that this is one club in which membership is not optional, and the only way to get out of membership is to age out.
Given that bit of statistic, I’ll bet there are at least two or three of you out there who belong to this club along with me, and I would bet each and every one of you has a story to tell.
And sharing the stories is the best part of all, even if they are full of “I remember whens”.
