Birthday
milestones...those days that at the beginning make us go, "Awww". One
year old--you've learned so much and are beginning to walk and talk and take on
the world. As a two-year-old, your feelings are leading the way with temper
tantrums and still so much learning and growing. Skip to five years--a whole handful of fingers in age. Then at ten, you get to double digits! The next one
is a big milestone--thirteen, a full-fledged teenager with all its changes and
drama. Of course, there's sweet sixteen, not sure how or why that was made up. For
myself, I don't recall that year being so sweet. Then there's eighteen, finally
legal for some things but then comes the big one, twenty-one, legal for everything!
All those milestones are happily anticipated and celebrated.
Too soon, along comes thirty, the year you realize technically you are no longer a kid, but a
full-fledged adult, at least as far as numbers go. If you truly grow up, is up
to you. Each birthday after that brings a little prickling reminder, you are
getting old. Forty, fifty, sixty, I've seen them all. I embraced sixty-four
with the Beatle's song as my mantra, "When I'm 64". It kind of
helped.
We
take a departure from the decade acknowledgements at age 65 when we become
officially considered a senior citizen everywhere. AARP has been after us for
years, now we may as well concede. We embrace those discounts we have worked
hard for all our lives. We appreciate the acknowledgement that we have gotten
that far. We might as well cash in.
This
year as I approached seventy, I was sad to leave the 60's. I felt I was
encroaching on one of my most hated words to describe me--elderly. I hate that
word. It sounds old and decrepit. I am not there yet. When you dread these
milestone birthdays, people always say, "Well, it's better than the
alternative." You can't argue with that unless you are ready to leave this
world. I am not, but that's not for me to decide.
As
I turned seventy, I knew I had a choice: be miserable, sad, depressed or just
do as many say, "it's just a number" don't let it bother you. But
it's such a big number! I have grandchildren who can't count that far yet. Ok,
I had to stop and put all the negative thoughts aside and try to embrace seventy.
No Beatle's song to help me through this one. My 70th birthday started out so wonderfully
with such a thoughtful celebration with my family. The celebrating continued
for a few days. My husband doesn't embrace the idea that you can celebrate
birthDAYS for weeks. Whatever. It was during these happy days that I decided I
would call it Super 70. I have to change my mindset. It all comes from within.
Yes, these beginning celebrations were the result of friends and loved ones
making me feel special, but to have a super year, it must come from me too. I
can't rely on people to treat me like a queen every day. I need to make my days
super. How will I do that? By doing things I enjoy. It will definitely include
writing, but other things I love to do too. Besides hobbies and pastimes,
spending time with loved ones, or places to go and food to eat (that's a toughie,
as I am trying to eat healthy, but I will enjoy food too--it helps to be
healthy to be super seventy), but I know doing for others can make me feel good
inside too besides being a nice thing to do. Being super seventy isn’t all
about me. It's about others too. Can I make the world a tiny bit better while
I'm here? How can I, here for just a mere speck of time, touch someone's heart,
if even for a second--letting someone ahead of me in line, dropping a note to someone,
and other things that are still within my capabilities of doing at seventy
years "old".
Now
I know every day is not going to be super. There will be pain, sickness,
heartache--all external forces bursting my bubble. I am realistic. I've been
here long enough to know; life isn't all roses. When external things make me
cry, I will have a good cry--ask anyone who knows me well. Crying is almost a pastime
with me. My empathy meter runs high. Things that happen to us make us who we
are. How we accept things makes all the difference. If someone has hurt me,
forgiveness will help me more than it helps them. Having lost my Mom almost ten
years ago now, but it seems like yesterday, I will still cry and miss her, but
I don't blame God or anyone. We are not guaranteed tomorrow. I remember what we
had and am so thankful that it was so wonderful and that is why it still hurts.
I will try to accept whatever life brings me in my super seventies that is not
super. I will crawl out of whatever darkness comes and acknowledge all the good
and most of all, seek the light of peace--the peace that passes all
understanding.
Now
let’s get out of all those heavy thoughts, but I wanted to be real. For now, it's "Carpe
diem" and "this is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be
glad in it." My goal is to do something be it ever so minor, to make each
day super in its own way, little acts of kindness for me or unto others.
Whatever age you are, I hope you too, can make it super.
