Gratitude
Gratitude
Was listening to NPR this morning. There was a bit about keeping a gratitude list. It's trending. You know the routine. You document all the "I'm thankful for..." things you can think of to keep negative thinking gremlins at bay. It got me to thinking about life now that I'm into my seventies.
Losses abound now. I lost a grammar school playmate last week. Penny Marshall died at 74. People in there 50's and 60's are now considered sages on TV news programs. Very confusing. Makes my innards churn. In my head I'm not as old as I am physically. It's like living an out-of-body experience all the time, watching myself age like cheese, struggling to maintain some kind of control over it. I should be grateful because I'm still healthy, have family that talks to me, a gaggle of close friends, several who beat cancer this past year, a husband who snores, hacks and sneezes, but still loves me, and honest financial advisors who take care of our stash of cash, promising it will endure through the current political and market chaos. Keep your fingers crossed on this one.
I remind myself to be grateful everyday when I wake-up, although it's at 3:30 or 4:00 AM now, not a comfortable, normal 7:30. At least I'm waking up and not having my obit appear in the paper. I should be more than grateful. I should be ecstatic. However, every bit of good news has a down side. I've got another 20 years of living to do, but will it really be a healthy 20 years? Or will I continue to watch my body deteriorate in front of my eyes? To preserve my knees, I don't run anymore. Instead I do the elliptical machine that hardly compares with the Adrenalin high I got from running. I don't do push ups because my old shoulders can't take it, so I lay on my back to lift weights. It's just not the same. I can still do sit-ups for core, thank God. And, I've turned to yoga for relaxation, but my muscles are tight and short, reminding me there's unending work to be done, exhausting me quickly.
What happened to the unbounded energy I once had to tackle the day? Yes, I'm grateful that my face is still pretty good (just ask the cosmetic ladies at Nordstrom's), but there's no getting around it, my neck looks like a turkey. I remember all the comments I snickered about old ladies and their turkey necks. Please forgive me!! I could have some "work done", but the practical mid-west in me thinks it's now an extravagance beyond belief. For whom am I trying to look youthful? I could go on, but won't.
Perhaps my angst, at the source, is all about letting go of that vision of perpetual youth we've been sold on. Maybe it's time to embrace something new. I'm sure others have conquered it, but my question is, "What is this new stuff?" I'm not a natural at domesticity or grand mothering so those roles won't work. Should I try to reinvent myself as I've done before? Or, should I slide like a greased pig into the slop, satisfied in the boring, but familiar and safe? Can new stuff be fulfilling? Can it be thrilling? Will I be happy? Should I be happy? I'm not unhappy, for sure. Kind of silently gliding in neutral right now, living day-to-day. Maybe that's OK. Learning to live in the now, rather than the future. I'm grateful for the option. I have resources. I have my mind, although I believe it's suspect at times.
Oh well, what was I thinking? Let's keep our sense of humor. John, with head cold, snotty nose, and droopy eyes, just dragged himself into the office clad in his favorite Bat Man jammies. I turn, I smile, "Hi there. Want a quicky from an ol' lady?" I ask alluringly. Laughter, hold your belly and fall over laughter, overtakes him.
He turns, shaking his head, "You do have a sense of humor! Got any coffee?"
It will get better. I believe it. Just more humps in life's roller coaster. My guess is that when I'm ready to die, I will, but not a second sooner.