----- Original Message ----- 
From: Bernard Pelow 
To: Dad 
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 8:16 AM
Subject: growing old


A friend sent this to me, and I think it needs to be shared...
Namaste,
Bernie



The Gift of Time

The other day a young person asked me how I felt about being old. I was taken 
aback, for I do not think of myself as old. Upon seeing my reaction, she was 
immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it was an interesting question, 
and I would ponder it, and let her know.

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 sometime despair over my body, the wrinkles, 
the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt.  And often I am taken aback by that old 
person that lives in my mirror (who looks like my mother!), but I don't agonize 
over those things for long.

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for 
less grey 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 avant garde on my 
patio.  I am entitled to a treat, 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 or play on the computer until 4 AM and 
sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 
60&70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and 
will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying 
glances from the jet set. 

They, too, will get older.

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 the years my heart has been broken.   How can your heart not break 
when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when a beloved pet 
gets hit by a car?  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 turning 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.   

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 your question, I  like being older. It has set me free.  I like 
the 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.  And I shall eat dessert every single day. (If I feel like it)

Reply via email to