Bear Hug

I have an uncle. He lived far away, traveled and worked in foreign countries. We didn’t see him that often but when we did he was the kind of man you wanted to listen to and be around. He always reminded me of Grizzly Adams….a bearded man with a soft heart. He had some good stories and, maybe it was because he lived in Texas the majority of the time, but he always seemed a little larger than life.

My mom must have sent him a link to this blog and when he posted a message to me, there was a bear icon. I clicked on it and somehow…. (love the information superhighway!)…it linked me to his blog. I never would have known it existed. I thought one of his posts…and the sage advice it offered, were too special not to pass along. I hope it’s o.k. to post these, uncle “bear”! These are his words and I loved them!

Old 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 sometimes despair over my body– but I don’t agonize over it for long. I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family 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 cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn’t need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to overeat, to be messy, to be extravagant. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. Whose business is it if I choose to read until 4 am, and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 50’s & 60ies, and if I at the same time wish to weep over a lost love, I will. I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten - and I eventually remember the important things. Sure, over theyears my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers? But broken hearts are what give us strength and 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 have my hair turn gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. I can say “no”, and mean it. I can say “yes”, and mean it. 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. So, to answer the question, I like being old. It has set me free. I likethe 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. For the first time in my life, I don’t have to have a reason to do the things I want to do. If I want to play games on the computer all day, lay on the couch and watch old movies for hours or don’twant to go to the beach or a movie, I have earned that right. I have put in my time doing everything for others, so now I can be a bit selfish without feeling guilty. I sometimes feel sorry for the young. They face a far different world than I knew growing up, where we respected the old, but they too will grow old someday.I am grateful to have been born when I was, and to be who I am.

Now if only I could find one of those cement geckos for myself!!!