The other day my husband and I were talking about getting older. By definition (at least in our household) “old” is at least ten years greater than whatever age is currently reflected by the candles on our birthday cakes. The actual number keeps going up.
However, there are certain things we’ve noticed now that we’re over 50 that even we concede are old behaviors. Ones we only imagine to be the foundation of things to come, with more added in the next ten years when we’re really old.
Here are a few of them, so see if you can relate or if you can add any of your own.
When we were young, we drove fast. We just could not go slow. Now that we’re older we almost can’t go fast. We stay to the right along with the other old fogies because we know keeping to the speed limit brings the least wear and tear on us and the car.
When we were young and working or playing hard, mentally or physically, we’d decide when to call it quits. Now that we’re older, our bodies tell us to quit. It shuts down—whether we want to or not.
When we were young, we couldn’t wait for the next new thing. Now that we’re older, it’s nice if most things stay the same.
When we were young, we’d say: “Someday, I’ll do
When we were young, we easily made new friends. Now when we meet new people we realize how long our history is and to bring somebody up to date on all that is just too much trouble. Helps us treasure the friends we already have!
When we were young, our dreams were filled with unlimited possibilities. Now that we’re older, we know our limitations and our dreams reflect those limitations. Age may not have as much to do with that as realizing our temperaments reveal what we do best.
There are also a few little things we appreciate more as we’ve gotten older. Like a good night’s sleep (when we have one), the benefits of exercise, my husband’s cup of coffee in the morning. And one other thing, which isn’t so little: the assurance of growing faith and just how much sense it all makes.
We came to the conclusion that aging brings a mix of physical limitations with the wisdom to recognize them. Maybe it’s a slow process toward accepting such limitations (after all, how old was George Bush Sr. when he jumped out of an airplane?), but accept them we do—eventually.
I’m not sure this blog post has much of a point, except to relay the gist of a conversation I found interesting. That’s one of the benefits of marriage; we get to grow older with someone and share the whole process.
But before I close, in order for this post to get back on the topic of my “books and writing life” theme, I’ll talk a bit about my next book called Whisper on the Wind. Have I mentioned I’m excited about this one? Or perhaps I should ask if I’ve mentioned it lately, because I’m sure I’ve said it! I am excited!
I often compare writing a book to having a baby. It takes about the same amount of time, at least for me. Nine months to produce a baby or a book. I may not love my books with the same intensity that I love my kids, but I love them in a similar way that each is unique and valued for various reasons. With my books, however, I have favorites. The Oak Leaves was a favorite because it had so much of my own experiences in it, and it was important for me to share the Fragile X diagnosis.
Whisper on the Wind is a new favorite, simply because from the very first word and on through each of the revisions, it’s been a gift. This is a new version of a book I wrote after being away from writing for a number of years, and one of those things that seemed to write itself, without an outline, without a lot of planning. I simply sat down after a very long drought and this story spilled onto the screen as if God said to me “Yes, this is what I want you to do. Tell stories.”
So . . . look for more on that in the near future. I can’t wait to share it with you!
Join Me!