“Gonna dance, gonna fly, take a chance riding high, before my numbers up. I’m gonna fill my cup, I’m gonna live til I die… Frank Sinatra song I’m Gonna Live Til I Die.
So the other night I dreamed I was young and as I was luxuriating in the glow of youth I was jolted awake by a pain in my leg. “Ouch,” I yelled and woke up to rub the cramp out while trying desperately to recapture the dream. No such luck. Reality interfered with my moment of recovered youth.
I could have used the words from Don’t Rain on my Parade in the intro but in California rain is a blessed event so I chose old blue eyes instead. Same message.
Oh ,sure you think, she’s complaining about getting old again? Okay, I admit I do discuss aging a lot, but when constantly confronted with the realization the world thinks I’m older than Methuselah, it can play with your head.
The other day my brother asked me if I still drive. Well since my jetpack is in the shop now for repairs I’m using my car to get around. What is he talking about?
What am I one-hundred years old? Is he kidding? Why on earth would he think I don’t drive. I’d bet my last dollar I’m a better driver than he is.
I have no intention of not driving until I can’t reach the pedals anymore.
It’s moments like these that make me feel like people are looking at me like I just sat up in a coffin.
Isn’t it bad enough I’m starting to look like the crypt keeper, do I have to act that way as well?
I’ve seen people well into their nineties, driving, playing pickleball and actually living as though they still were alive.
Am I wrong or what’s the point of being here if you’re not living?
I just heard about a very famous and powerful man that remarried recently at the age of 93.
Okay, I thought but why not just live together? Then I read more and learned that he chose to live his life and make decisions as though he were still a young man with all the time in the world. Wow, what a concept. It’s a way of looking at life as though you can accomplish anything. Choosing your own destiny and not succumbing to the time-is-running-out theorists. Great attitude.
I wasn’t raised that way. My parents kept their cars for ten years because they thought they were getting too old to buy a new one. They lived well into their nineties so a new car would have gotten enough use.
I do find myself slipping into that mindset occasionally. Should I buy a new chair or is this one still okay?
I need to readjust my thinking. I’ll buy that new chair. If I were twenty years younger, would I? Yes, then why not now?
Do we get to a point in life where we make calculated decisions based on statistical insurance tables of life expectancy? And should we? Or should we live, dream, act and think like we’re still thirty and have a lifetime ahead of us?
I say go for it. I am. From now on I’m living like I’m young, strong, tough and operating on all eight cylinders. Hey I know it’s car talk, but I’m a Motown girl you know.
What matters most in the end, others expectations for our lives or ours?
So many people are fortunate enough to keep achieving and reaching new goals well into their nineties. Baby Boomers are coming into our stride.
Gone is the day when we had to retire to Boca and play Maj Jong all day. Although some days I admit that’s a plan I can live with.
I just think we buy into others beliefs about us instead of our own.
No one should ever set limits on another person because it’s up to only us how we choose to live.
My brother asking if I still drive plants a seed that signals, I think you’re old and can no longer function as you once did.
Of course he’s eleven years younger so to him I seem old as dirt.
But isn’t it how I seem to me that actually matters.
Of course our choices do become a bit more limited physically as we age. I’m well aware that climbing ladders and running a marathon isn’t in my wheelhouse. Yet mentally if we can think young, we can stay young.
In many ways we are freed up to do those things we didn’t have time for when younger.
Sit at the beach and dangle our feet in the water. Except in LA where you have to fight for a spot on the sand with the homeless and the criminals. But maybe somewhere else.
We can take up a hobby we always dreamed of like cooking, painting or pottery and discover a hidden talent. Didn’t Grandma Moses begin painting at ninety something?
We can spend more time with our grandchildren and take an interest in their hobbies.
It actually is a mindset after all. Living our best life is for only us to discern. Not those who see us as old and in decline.
I intend to drive like Mario Andretti well into my golden years.
I am planning on new adventures, accomplishments and reaching new goals.
We have paid a lifetime of dues. Wouldn’t it be silly not to keep enjoying our membership until we decide to quit the club?
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