When I was a kid, I perceived my parents and anyone beyond 30 as “old.” Of course, I recognized that my grandparents were older than my parents, but …OLD pretty much summed it up for me.
Now I’m 70. My definition of old has changed with each decade.
Now I’m actually debating whether I want to live to 90 years old …or go for 100! (I know I don’t actually get to decide, but projecting in this way somehow pleases me.)
My son has asked that I go to the doctor for a cognitive test annually. This is understandable, since I do weird things such as meditate, shamanic journeys, and posting channeled videos. It can’t hurt (as long as I retain the ability to make decisions regarding my health), so I comply with his request.
I am learning to watch my step in a detailed way: How steep is it? Icy? What shoes am I wearing? No eating when I drive …in case my throat does that choking thing. (Chew thoroughly, never talking when food in mouth, don’t even breathe – depending on what is in your mouth.) Make sure my husband knows when I’ll be home and is aware of any safety concerns.
I am learning to pay more attention to what I eat and how my body responds to various foods.
I have learned to live with some pain, and to discern which pain is concerning.
I seek patterns of eating or exercise that might be helpful to the pain, my digestion, or my overall well-being.
I have more compassion for those who live on medications. So far, I am unencumbered in this way.
I never would have imagined that sex would be part of old people’s lives. (GROSS!)
My husband and I can each be annoying and we both need space from each other, but we recognize how fortunate we are to have each other at this point, to have real and vibrant affection for each other, trust each other, and to hold very few secrets.
The secrets we have are not the type that would devastate the other, but those that might indicate decline – a fall …forgetfulness …weakness …fear.
Usually we eventually share these things, especially as something even more challenging to discuss comes along.
We always make space in our heart and minds for what the other has to confide, even if our first response is not ideal.
We have 5 children between us, and we prioritize ALL of them. And grandchildren, of course.
We love being home, together. (This was not always true.)
We enjoy cards and board games and puzzles. We experiment in the kitchen.
We share with each other what we are reading/learning about.
We accept the preferences of the other regarding what to watch on TV, which neighbors they like, what the other thinks about world events, what they want to eat, do …sleeping patterns, etc.
We used to bike and hike together, now one of us bikes and the other walks. I suppose we are more independent …along with being more dependent.
This business of acceptance and independence has been a gradual shift.
I want to restate how lucky we both feel that we have each other – a caring person to trust and to share chores with, a companion, an ally, a partner, a beloved other. This is the main thing.
There is a LOT less time with children – especially when grandkids come along.
I understand that many people enjoy a solitary independence. I’m sure there are benefits to totally directing one’s own life. I consider that sometimes, when my husband annoys me.
We both focus on kindness.
I am a lucky one in my choice. I am not sure it’s wisdom. Fate, perhaps.
I wouldn’t trade him in for the world.
I envision well-being and the company of my husband for a long time to come.
I do believe that the absence of fear is a powerful thing, helping me to create my best reality.
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8 hummingbird way 