Growing Old

I’m 47—smack dab in the middle of middle age. My former classmates and I have begun to talk about and make plans for our 30th class reunion next year.

All of this reunion talk has me thinking about age lately. My mom will turn 70 late this year. My dad is just getting ready to turn 87. I’ve never really thought of age the same way as most people I know. My mom always seemed older than my dad when I was growing up, even though he is 17 years older. This showed me that age was more of a psychological state than a physical, chronological factor.

I find my current age very interesting. My brother is only three years younger, and his children are six and three. Many friends our age have young children, while many others have grandchildren. Some people my age are old. Some are very young.

Yes, I know that last statement sounds weird, but think about it for a moment. There are people my age who are old. They never (or rarely) try anything new. They complain a lot. They talk about how much better things used to be. They have a minimally discernible sense of humor. There are other people who are my age who are very young. They find new adventures everywhere. They choose to look at the positive side of things. They laugh easily. They enjoy life. I just watched an interview with Carol Burnett. From what I can tell she’s still very young.

It’s said that you can’t help growing older, but growing old is a choice. I believe this wholeheartedly. It is my goal to never grow old.

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