"What is good about getting older?" a beloved family member asked at Thanksgiving.
"I could say, NOT MUCH, since there are so many things, not good, but there are some rewards in turning seventy and retiring.
"What are they?" She was clearly puzzled. I, too, was puzzled by my response, since I have been feeling somewhat down since the election, thinking this political landscape is NOT the life I wanted to have during my twilight years. My moral compass has only grown stronger with age, so 2025 America is a far cry from a decent world I take pride in. I find the cabinet choices alone to be reprehensible. My God, even Pete Hegseth's mother wrote a piece published in the TIMES in 2018, where she accused her son of mistreating women for years. She said, "he was an abuser of women." In my world he could not hold ANY position in any capacity. Yet, my guess is many members of Congress will not care, so I will have to simply sit on my sorrow.
The sorrow goes deeper. My body can not do what it used to do in so many ways. Head-stands are out in yoga, but so much else is out too, including very active aerobics. I don't swim as many miles as I used to, since I can't. I used to never take public transportation, since I walked everywhere. Now I often take the bus or the subway. My knee and my hip hurt. Plus, even as I am writing this, it is Saturday afternoon, and I feel really tired. I slept well last night, which is often NOT the case for me now as a senior. Adding insult to injury, I am now totally gray-haired, by choice, so when people look at me they see an older woman. I am!
But here is the good part, too. I accept my limitations like I never did before. I push myself, but not too hard, and that is a good thing. I have gotten off the treadmill and I no longer want to get back on it. I appreciate the leisure of a planless day like I never did before. I still exercise, I still write and read, enjoy culture and am inspired to take political action, but I do so at my own pace, no one else's. I don't want to be anyone else but myself, and though my life is not perfect, I am free to be me. That same freedom means I will call you out if you disrespect me, if I don't appreciate what you are doing or saying. There is no one I am afraid of, no one I will kow-tow to. If you don't like me as a result, that is okay, too. Not everyone appreciates this style, and that is fine, which does not mean I won't make sacrifices, especially with my immediate family, particularly my grandchildren, since it takes a village and I want to be part of that village. I have learned to keep quiet and when to use my voice. Plus, at this point in my life, I need not be friends with people I feel little in common with, though I never mind challenges or differences. I am not going to be connected, ever again, out of obligation, since what I really value now is authenticity, even if your authentic is not mine.
I would like to grow old with peace and serentiy, and sometimes that will not be possible, since friction and tumult and the unexpected are always on the horizon, like this past election, which I did not prepare psychologically for in any way. And there are health issues, too. So, as I grow older with my wrinkled face and gray hair and flab on my stomach, I have to be cognizant--even more so--of the little control I have to map the future. I will do, what I can, to make it the best possible one, and try to ride the waves of sorrow that sometimes might make their way onto my map. But the map will always be mine, so I am prepared for the sorrow and jubilation of the journey.
