Growing Old Is a Blessing

The year I turned 62—which was a significant number of years ago—I decided to have a party.  I invited the group of nine-year-old children that were in my Primary class at Church. I love to tell stories and planned storytelling to be the main event.

Cake is almost a standard requirement for a birthday party, so I baked a cake. I decided that putting 62 candles on the cake might create a miniature forest fire. Therefore, I chose to place a number six candle in the center of the cake and a single candle on each side of the six. It was balanced that way. One of my young friends looked at the cake and said, “I didn’t know you were a hundred and sixty-one.” I laughed as I rapidly grabbed the candle on the left and placed it beside the candle on the right. The cake is gone. The memory remains.  However, I’m still on my way to being a hundred. I often tell people, “I’m planning to live to be a hundred or die trying.”

Growing old has its own set of blessings—and not just the blessing of being over the hill instead of under it. In the process of gathering years, I have also gathered memories—precious memories that I would not wish to be without. The accumulation of aches and pains has also brought new insights, bits of wisdom and a deeper faith.

I have grown children who are competent and well able to care for themselves and their families. I find that they are now focused on caring for me—making sure I have the things I need. They step forward to accomplish tasks that have become challenging for me. And when my family isn’t available, strangers also step forward to make sure I’m navigating my chosen path safely. They don’t ask if I need help, they just give it. I smile and thank them. I have become the little old lady that someone helps across the street as their good deed for the day. I tell myself that I don’t really need that help, but I let them do it anyway because accepting their help is my good deed of the day. 

When I go shopping no one bothers to ask me if I qualify for the Senior Citizen discount. They simply give it to me. They ask if I need help taking my purchases to the car. If I am on a crowded trolley or bus, someone invariably offers their seat to me.

Growing old—that phrase is the key to my slower lifestyle. I have time to grow in new ways.  I take an art class, start a blog, write stories, essays, and books, read, learn a new craft, and make new friends. I try new recipes when I feel like cooking. Each morning is a new day filled with possibilities. Growing old is truly a blessing.