Sixty

Realities are a part of life, but what part?

I just took part in a poll that was divided into sections that put me in the next to oldest group there was! That is a real eye opener. I am at the very bottom of this level, in fact I am almost in the next lower level, but almost is not being there.

I don't feel as old as my age sounds to me and I don't think I look old, but the fact is my age is right up there and that is a bit frustrating for me. I can exercise, lose weight, ride bikes, carry furniture up and down steps, but I cannot change the number of years I have been on this earth.

In truth, I wouldn't trade these years in, they've given me a lot of information and experiences I wouldn't want to give up. I just wish I didn't have so many negative thoughts about the sound of "sixty." There I wrote it! I am sixty years old. I don't feel like an elderly cookie baking grandma ready to sit knitting her way into the twilight of her life. I just spent the day hiking up hill and down all over central Illinois.

What I really need to do is get over my phobia of what other people perceive as sixty and get on with my life. Fortunately for me, I do not have to wear tags advertising my Achilles heel. Most of the people I run into have no idea of, nor any reason to care about, my age. It is not a big factor in my life -- until I think about it.

My life, like fine wines and good cheese, only gets better as I grow older. I have earned every laugh crinkle on this face, every curly gray hair you can see and I have an amazing portfolio of variable and assorted experiences. All of my senses are working perfectly, all of my desires are still flaming and life is about as good as it gets.

Sixty is just the word I use to quantify the time it took to get here.