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To Age is a Gift
By Princejay Events of Freelance Events
To Age, I decided, 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 that has started to appear on my forehead, the baggy eyes every time I wake up in the morning, the aching back whenever I stoop down for an hour or two engrossed with my gardening in the afternoon, the embarrassing snoring in the middle of silent nights, and the undeniably gradually sagging butt, not to mention, the gray hair that has now slowly started to dominate my once healthy shiny black hair. And often I am taken aback by that aging woman that lives in my mirror (who is starting to look like my mother), but I don't agonize over those things for long. I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my so many cherished memories 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 cup of rice, or for not making my bed, or for buying that naughty underwear that I know I would never wear, but looks so hilariously sexy in my poodle named Cotton. I am entitled to a treat, to be crazy at times, to be extravagant. I have seen some dear friends and cousins leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. Whose business is it if I choose to read the old Nancy Drew books or play Raven heart or Sims on the computer until 4 o'clock in the morning and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 70's & 80's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over the fact that I would never again see our common old crush boy next door... I will. I will walk by the Beach in a diver's suit that covers my entire bulging body, and will dive in to the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the so much younger ones around. They, too, will get old. I know I am now sometimes forgetful. But then again, some of my life stories would do better if they might just as well be forgotten anyways. And eventually just remember the important things. RIGHT? Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when your family suffers, or even when a good friend of yours has been had? But broken hearts are what give us strength, 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 watch my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep abstract lines 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. I like growing 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 french fries, vegetables, fried fish, local delicacies, and any food I think of eathing every single day. (If I feel like it). Life is beautiful, just age gracefully. Be thankful for the blessings. To age is a gift. |
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