Wear it like a badge…if you dare!

The last month or two has been fraught with snow days (means no work or school), quarantines (means no chair yoga in the facility-no nothing in the facility while under isolation orders) and death. Yes, death. Both at work and at home there have been many deaths. It was just enough to come up for air and deal with the day to day and blogging and sharing were last on my list.

But, tis a new year now and things are looking up and I have something to share. Actually, it’s something we all share-it’s a birthday. We’re all born with one and we all treat it differently at different stages of our lives. You can tell everyone ‘it’s just a number’ and sometimes that line flies but other times, say just before your hair appointment to cover ‘the maturity’ on your head or when you hit a certain milestone year, it just doesn’t cut it and the only cutting going down is that of the birthday cake and THAT isn’t even that fun as you bend over to blow out ALL the candles worrying that the angle of your head shows those greys……

Okay, not sure where I was going with that but on with the show. Our age is something we celebrate when we are young. We can’t wait to turn4, 5 and 6. And, it gets more important when we hit 12 and then those scary (to parents) teen years. Of course there’s the huge celebration at 16 with hands on the steering wheel and a little jump in the air when one becomes legally entitled to drink a beer alongside a parent at Swiss Chalet….Yes, I did this with my grandmother and loved the experience. After 21 when we can inherit (but usually the pot is empty at that stage) and 25, where we can rent a car anywhere, it starts to go downhill. 30 looms and the mourning begins and then about 2 years in we get all ‘Oprah’ and say hey, ‘these 30’s are the new 20’s and I am LOVING (said like Oprah) it.’

So, just when we are catching our breath of celebration, the big uh oh 4 0 starts to loom. It just isn’t fair as the entire mourning process starts again…until we realize that the 40’s are the new 30’s (thank God for Oprah). So, imagine how exciting it is to see people wear their age proudly. I see it a lot in the retirement residences I teach at. For example, today my class had to be moved to a smaller space in a busier area as Mr. Walker’s family was having his birthday party in the rec room. His 103 birthday party thank you very much!!!!!! It was standing room only and a very happy ocassion. Mr. Walker barely uses a walker and is sharper than a whip!

Back at class, everyone is chatting about this great achievement and someone walks by as we are talking about being 93. This man was telling me that he has been sitting in the chair I needed to move a bit, for 2 years and that he was 93. Of course I said what I always say, ‘ I know you are 93 Mr. Brown. Who isn’t around here? That is not news!” And then someone strolls up behind us with her walker and says, ‘hell yeah, I’m 93 too’ (okay, she didn’t say hell but you have to admit it would have been funnier said that way). So, then we got talking about age and how we feel and everyone was very proud of their age and the accomplishments that it represented. This is when I realized that we, the young ones, are going about it all the wrong way. It’s all about attitude and how you spin it. The years represent our survival, our joys, our lives. Like a famous lady once said when asked if she would consider plastic surgery for her wrinkles, ‘why would I want to erase my memories?’