I have to admit, I wouldn’t like my physical therapist and my doctor telling me I’m not old. I’m more like Betty White:
…if one is lucky enough to be blessed with good health, growing older shouldn’t be something we complain about. It’s not a surprise, we knew it was coming. Make the most of it.
Sure, you may not be as fast on your feet and the image in the mirror may be a little disappointing, but if you’re still functioning and not in pain, gratitude should be the name of the game.
….
Somewhere along the line there’s a breaking point, where you go from not discussing how old you are to bragging about it. I have never lied about my age but these days I seem to work it into the conversation at the drop of a hat. Please, stop me before I get to the point of “Hi, I’m Betty White! I’m 89 years old.”
—- Betty White, If You Ask Me (And of Course You Won’t)
So I’m grateful in a few weeks I can say,
Hi, I’m Cheerful Monk! I’m 85 years old.
So I like WebwWiseWoman’s comment on yesterday’s post:
Age denial is everywhere. I hate when so very many announce birthdays as “80 years young” One recently had the oldest resident here being labelled in the newspaper “109 years young!”
No my pet, you are old, very old, celebrate that, never deny it when so many don’t get the privilege of being called “old”
Proudly and gratefully old.
XO
WWW
Thanks, WWW!
December 2, 2024