Just Another Candle

"Age is a case of mind over matter.  If you don't mind, it doesn't matter."

~ Satchel Paige 

I recently turned 76, and, somewhat surprisingly, the number took my breath away.  It's not that I didn't know it was coming.  I usually look forward to celebrating my birthday for an entire week. I'd been saying for some time that  I was going to be 76.  Yet, when the day came and I said the words, "I'm 76", it suddenly struck me that I'm on the downward slope to 80.  And however, you look at it, 80 is old.

Most of the time I don't feel old.  I don't think of myself as old, unless, until -

• I know all the words to songs younger folks have never heard of.  Happens all too frequently on The Voice.
• I catch a glimpse of myself in a store window and wonder who that woman is.
• Or look unexpectedly in the mirror and see my mother staring back at me.
• I have to struggle to get up if my butt is lower than my knees.
• I walk into a room and can't remember why I went there.
• I see a celebrity from my youth and am shocked at how old they look.
• I can recognize all the gadgets and appliances on a quiz about golden oldies - skate keys, ice boxes, party lines, even mimeograph machines.
• I hear myself saying I could be someone's grandmother.
• I notice that none of the heels in my closet are over 1" high and I dress for comfort rather than style.
• I refer to someone in their 50's as young.
• I have to say I'm 1/2 inch shorter on my new driver's license. (At this rate, I'll need a car seat if I make it to 90 and am still driving!
• The news arrives that the last of my Dad's siblings has died.
• I watch a contemporary decline.

For the most part, however, I don't mind.  After the initial shock a few days ago, I did celebrate.  All week.  I celebrate that I take no meds.  I can do much of what I did 20 years ago, though I must confess it takes longer.  I love to learn and strive to learn something new every day, deriving more from what I read than I ever did.  I am overcoming my fear of this technology, even have a FB page.  I enjoy people of all ages and particularly enjoy conversations with young people.  Though I may cry more easily, I also laugh more easily.   Though I get angry and fearful, I don't reside there as long as I did when I was young. Though John is ill, we have great medical care.  And we continue to fight the good fight together.  Not bad for 76, if I do say so.

So,I agree with Satchel.  Age is a case of mind over matter.  If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.  The secret is to continue to not mind.  It is after all, just another candle.

How Lucky Can One Girl Be?

“It doesn’t matter who you are or what you look like, so long as somebody loves you.”

~ Roald Dahl

I got some important lessons about birthdays this past birth week, some new and some I needed to be reminded of.

• Cards matter - say I, who is so remiss about sending cards.  Not that I didn't appreciate the e-mails and kind thoughts on Facebook, but the cards are now pinned to my bulletin board and I smile whenever I pass them.  And am sure to smile at them in the weeks and months ahead.

• But also, "I celebrate the day you were born" - a sentiment no greeting card can rival, however and wherever it's expressed.

• Belated wishes are appreciated.  Too often, I have thought that somehow they might be considered an insult, an afterthought, and have felt embarrassed to send them.  But it is being remembered, before or after, that touches one's heart.   At least, this heart.

• Then, there's gifts.  Over the years I have received some spectacular gifts - fine jewelry and trips to Italy and Hawaii, clothes and items for our home - gifts that as a child I would never have imagined possible.  But the gifts this year, much simpler, have moved me as much or possibly more (could this be a sign that I've gained some wisdom as well as years?) A friend coming up the driveway clutching a bouquet of pink tulips, unexpected gifts from new friends at a gathering of "the girls", a treat to lunch, affectionate messages left on the phone.

• And the special gifts - a care package from my sister with not one but six small treasures that only someone who knows my tastes, and history - and idiosyncrasies - could select.  A new chair from my husband - who gets a chair for a birthday present? I did, because I asked for it and he always strives to give me what I ask for.  And the two foot tall teddy bear because he wanted this birthday to be memorable in its own way.  "How lucky can one girl be?"

But the lesson that lingers most in the days that have followed was instigated by a single sentence from my brother when I prattled on about the highlights of my birth week.  "You are well loved."  Birthdays - a celebration of the fact that we are loved, that we have enjoyed another year of being loved, and can, hopefully, look forward to the next one.  An acknowledgment of the lives we touch and that touch us. Viewed this way, how could you not look forward to your next birthday?

So, I'd like to enhance Roald Dahl's quote:  "It doesn't matter who you are or what you look like" or how old you are, "so long as somebody loves you."  My deepest gratitude to all who have reminded me that I am one lucky woman.