On growing old

It’s a blessing to grow old. Many people are not so lucky.

A look in the mirror, the twinge between the shoulder blades, an aching joint, and the receding hairline may make us question the joy of ageing, but it shouldn’t. Growing old is definitely a privilege, so long as we don’t waste the steps in our journey.  We are sent reminders at times, messages that prompt us to enjoy our lives, to live them.

This week’s message arrived in the form of a photo. On the left is the 6 month old pup and on the right, the same dog 12 years later.

I stared and smiled and thought.

He’s lived.

He’s loved and been loved.

He’s played and pranced and howled at the moon.

He’s rolled on the freshly cut grass and been rewarded with a bath he didn’t much like.

He’s been a lifelong companion to one and maybe many.

He’s got a head full of memories to recall in moments of quiet.

He’s blessed to be growing old.

Then I grabbed two of my photos, smiled and thought.

I’ve lived and still do.

I’ve loved, been loved and still do.

I’ve played, sung, danced, worked, travelled, and maybe even howled at the moon and I still can.

I’ve lain on the grass, smelled the flowers, and been awed by nature. Our world still amazes me.

I’ve read, written, painted and created – still do.

I’ve an abundance of friends and a family I love and love me back.

I’ve lived a life that has always suited me and I still do.

The reflection in the mirror could look less wrinkled, but it doesn’t. It is me, a man who has lived and enjoyed life with all its demands and blessings. It sure is a joy to be growing old.