Reflections on Becoming 80

Hello Everybody:

    I never expected to live this long. I thought I would die in my 50’s.  All because, when I was 9-years-old my friend looked at my palm and said, “Oh, no. You have a short lifeline. You’re going to die young.”

   But the years kept passing. And here I am, 80 years old on Pearl Harbor Day. I don’t feel 80 and I sure work hard not to look 80.

    I asked my two grandsons, one 15, the other 13, what came to their minds when they thought of an 80-year-old. They both said, independently, that they thought of an old guy with gray hair, wearing glasses and hearing aids, and walking with a limp, hunched over on a cane.

     “Whoa, fellas, I’m 80.” They said I was different. I didn’t look or act like I was that old. ( Teaching moment.) “Right. Not everyone fits the stereotype. So, don’t just dismiss 80-year-olds as pretty much useless.”

      How did I live this long? I suppose genetics played a part.  But I believe it’s because of love. I married the love of my life. I did the work that I loved doing for fifty years. I had two loving children who made me proud.  And I love having a faith.

      I have also tried to do good and be a role model for young minority women and men. I enjoyed the company of good friends and family. I stay active—not exercising—but traveling, reading, and trying to keep my mind sharp by learning new things. Don’t get me wrong, I have my share of aches and pains, but I have been blessed.

      Now that I’m in the twilight of my life, I won’t be waiting around for dementia, debilitation and death. No, I’m going to keep on keeping on as long as I am able. And for any of you fearing old age, listen to this wise old woman:  what will be, will be…but like me, try to make the best of it…anyway you can.

Happy 80^th birthday, Carole.