Mile Marker Sixty-Eight and Counting

 

I remember vividly wanting to be twenty.  However, I had no wish to be 68 until I was 67--then it seemed like a good idea.  Birthdays create so many opposing feelings.  You want one because it is wonderful to be honored even if it is for something that everyone else has done too.  On the other hand at a certain point, the date looms over you like a Dementor awaiting his kiss.  Many people barely notice these annual calendar days. I am not one of them.  

So, if we are very fortunate the years roll by and then the realization finally hits.  I'm getting old.  My knees hurt.  My hair is grey.  I need Tums frequently, and my list of daily meds has gone to page 2 (this does include supplements as well).  Finally, I have lots of time to do whatever I want.  Sadly, most days I don't want to do much.

I wake up so dang early!  What's with that?  We're talking 5 AM.  Since I cannot sleep, I clean up my home which takes about 45 minutes tops.  I then do a prayer journal, read some scriptures, listen to old radio shows and wait for my husband to arise.  We are on exact opposite schedules.  He can sleep until noon.  It drives me wild.  

I did only turn 68.  Yet, one only has to peruse the obituaries as I do religiously to know that from here on out life is definitely a crap shoot.  I have spent my whole life working to make good things a sure deal.  There is no surety to a death date.  Most often this truly doesn't bother me.  Sometimes it is even a matter for humor.

Atticus, my 7-year old grandson, knows that people generally die when they are old.  I guess he has decided that dinosaurs have nothing on me.  An example of a few of our "serious" conversations:  Me:  Someday you will drive just like daddy.  Atticus:  Yes, grandma, but you will be dead.  another occasion Me:  (as we pass the big High School) Someday you will go to school there, Atticus. Atticus:  Yes, but you will be in heaven grandma and I will be sad.

Luckily neither of us has any idea if his predictions will be true or not.  I delight in the idea of living into my 90's at least--certainly wishful thinking--but it could happen! I have some reasons that the idea of death doesn't upset me too much.   

•  I believe there is definitely life after death and I believe in the resurrection  
• Everybody dies.  So do I think I'm special or something?  
• Death is really part of living.  

So, hit me with your best shot Father Time.  Moving forward is  a good thing.  My losses are not new to the human race and for the most part will come to all.  For now I am content.  It's 363 days until I see that next marker coming up--days full of wonder and question marks.  363 days, but who's counting?