Lucille's

Don't Make Me Sad........................

Me, 2nd from left (??)

The thing is……. I’m not old.

Oh the number (unlisted) might suggest it and I may look like it to you, wearer of the cheap lenses but I’m definitely still a spring chicken. Now my mother was a different kettle of fish entirely. She was old at this age. In fact she was even old at 20 years younger. Of course perspective may play a part in all of this but I’m sticking with my story anyway because I’m the one telling it, and I prefer happy endings.

Old means different things to different people. Some look at my white hair and admire it (you know who you are and I love everything about you) while others question my sanity for not colouring it.  I know it goes against all convention to grow gracefully into your dotage instead of fighting it toothless and nailness though you may be, but I've earned my crowning glory…every last follicle. My friend Carol J. refers to her equally stunning do as ‘Arctic blonde.’ We unashamedly save our money and time by going au naturelle. Let’s see, that’s an additional 20 Starbuck’s mochas a month….do the math and weep my chemically- altered friends. Don’t get me wrong…I love your choices… just not on me.  Now that we are of an age (not old mind you) we are free to deviate from the pack (we always were but somehow we’re bolder now, less inclined to call each other up in the morning to see what each other is wearing, free to take a risk and let our true colours show.)

 I have acquired much wisdom…..can’t recall much, but here’s a bit.

 I know better when to speak and when to zip it. I've learned that empathy doesn't always mean telling my  story ad naseum but sometimes just showing up and proffering a shoulder.

  I care less about dust and other inanimate objects and more about the people God brings across my  pathway.

Taking moments to breathe and think and just be, no longer send me into fits of remorse for my nonproductivety.

Bad hair is not an automatic precursor to a bad day

 Ice cream fixes everything….or make mine gelato…salted caramel please.

 Love can be hard but it’s worth it.

Learning contentment is the secret.

Following Jesus makes me a better person.

Those of you who are younger may look past me to engage your hipper (is that still a word….no, I don’t mean big in the hips) counterparts. I know I probably did and I will understand. But one day you will be where I am and you will see that the years are a blessing, not a curse. They bring comfort in your own skin, appreciation for life and humanity, compassion and confidence and a knowing that eludes you when life is hurricaning around you as you strive to move forward and prove your worth.

Wherever you are at today, squeeze all the juice you can from life. Regret is a terrible thing and happens often because we choose to exist instead of live.  We were made to live…….and if you don’t live your life, the world will have lost. It will make me so sad..........