“Too Soon Old and Too Late Smart”

…a memorable line from an obscure musical, “Plain and Fancy”; a life lesson uttered by an Amish papa to his daughter whose heart belonged to someone other than her betrothed…

Friends and adult family are so tactful when addressing my age, but on occasion a young one will make note of the fact that my husband and I are getting on in years. Recently, during a temporary substitute teaching job, a fifth grader, who was not happy with my attempt at instruction, announced to me, “You are old!” I was feeling a bit snappish, so I replied, “And you are young…what is your point?” My thoughts, on the other hand, were quite sarcastic…along the lines of , “Duh…tell me something I don’t know.” My restraint paid off that time, with the conversation ending there and his return to his assignment.

But that young man was 100% correct; I am old.

And I’m good with that.

For several years I was in the gray area, pun intended. Somewhere around age 50 things started happening that planted the seed in my psyche that I was bearing down on becoming a senior citizen. I remember my first indication of giving an appearance of old age was at a fast food restaurant, where I was kindly offered the “senior discount”. I was taken aback mentally, but I oh-so-cooly replied, “Sure! Thanks!” I did not feel thankful. I was quite annoyed.

On another occasion I was pushing my shopping cart down an aisle at a grocery store, accompanied by one of my at-the-time college-aged daughters. A kindly elderly man passed us and commented to me that I had a beautiful granddaughter. That was harsh! My daughter and I both laughed it off and she assured me that the man must have poor eyesight and had obviously not been schooled in making tactful compliments. But my ego was smarting…all the way over to the health and beauty aisle, where I nonchalantly examined the many offerings for coloring my gray hair. I later returned and chose a lovely shade of light golden blonde that I hoped would help me turn back my apparently obvious clock. Doggone it…I was worth it. They said so.

In 2001, I made a significant, life-altering decision; I decided to return to college and complete my bachelor’s degree. My college plans had been waylaid by marriage and five children for almost thirty years, but I was growing more wistful about that unfinished business. I settled on my special education course of study and began my four-and-a-half year journey. I discovered several important truths: I could indeed keep up with my younger classmates, I was alarmingly competitive (especially with my children), and there were other students, just like me, back at school to address a financial or emotional need. We were known as “nontraditional students”. I, for one, loved that! In college, at least, I was not old; I was merely nontraditional.

After graduation I secured my first and only teaching position at a small public middle school in a tidy, upper middle class town. Shortly before the first day of school the new hires met for orientation. I was definitely the senior member of the crew, but I simply viewed myself as nontraditional, and all was right with the world. Another newbie introduced herself to me, and we realized we were from the same town; she had graduated from high school one year before and one year after my two younger daughters. So, yeah, I guess I was old enough to be her mother. But at least, in the middle school, I was not old enough to be a grandmother to any of the students, not at first anyway. That lasted about five years!

At some unknown moment within the last fifteen years I began to make peace with the numbers on my birth certificate. I got tired of fighting with my hair color and ditched the monthly chemical ritual, and not just because of an unfortunate error in judgment as to the meaning of the word titian. And really, who knew that silver hair would actually become trendy one day? I thankfully don my bifocals when the print is just too small. I admit to having many an old-person complaint, including arthritis, sleep apnea, and cataracts in both eyes. I was somewhat relieved to finally arrive at menopause and survive it with my wits still about me. Surgeries??? I’ve had a few of those and suspect I’ll have a few more.

I do have ongoing daily skirmishes with food and exercise, trying to be as fit as possible. But yes, I am content with my age. I believe that the key to my contentment is living in a state of peace to the best of my ability.

For some this may mean making peace with his or her past. Regrets are a trap that can keep you from moving forward. This is not profound, and others have said it more eloquently than I have. Forgive yourself and others for past wrongs, make amends if possible or appropriate, and move on. If needed ask for forgiveness from those you have injured or wronged; if they forgive, that’s a plus, but be okay with them not forgiving. Ask for God’s forgiveness and accept it.

Making peace with your current situation is crucial. If changes are needed and are possible, do everything within your power to accomplish those. Try with every fiber of your being to refrain from comparing your life with that of others. I play a little mind game when I’m really in awe of someone else and find myself daydreaming about experiencing some aspect of her life; the rule in my game is if I want one part of her life, then I have to take all of her life…her children, her husband, her talents or lack thereof…everything. And I would have to give up everything in my own life. So far, I have not met anyone with whom I would fully switch. Ask God to help you with your feelings of disappointment or envy or with the strength to make changes and to give you contentment…and accept His help.

Anyone broaching the topic of aging will eventually come to the topic of death. We need to make peace with our mortality. The fittest woman on the planet will one day stop breathing, and her heart will stop beating. We all will experience a last day. You are a rare breed if you have not already lost a loved one or had a brush with death yourself. These experiences can knock us down or at least give us a strong wobble. We struggle with being at peace with the end of it all and the vast unknown. You already know what I’m about to write. God is the only solution. He will give me the grace and strength to pass into eternity when my time on earth is finished. Accept that.

Yes, I’m old. But I’m not done yet. I remember a segment from Sesame Street when my children were young; the theme was “everything living grows”. Staying truly alive means continuing to grow. There are grandchildren to love, friends to cherish and friends to make, things to learn and create, gifts to give, causes to support, and things to try for the very first time. And don’t get me started on the books I need to read! love to think that there are things I am still going to learn and do, things I haven’t even considered yet.

Maybe I can write the great American novel.

Maybe I can find a way to serve someone who is hungry or alone or without hope.

Maybe I really could run a half marathon…or get my PhD…nah!