You know all those emails old friends send you…well

At this point in my life, I have time to do some frivolous things and enjoy them.  I feel like the flower in the time lapse photography email opening with beauty and with some selective classical music playing in the background. Who had the time to take these videos; probably someone my age?

 I have time and yet very little time; if you know what I mean.

I have time to do things I have never done; what a luxury, but I am also very aware of the time sequence attached to my life expectancy.  No I am not dying anytime soon, unless you know something I don’t.  But my mortality or rather my timeless vitality is clearly in question.

Although some women have had other time reminders like that baby clock thing happening at a certain age: 30….42 (did I feel that way, I’m not sure?  I have the next sequence of time concern: the senior vitality question looming. 

As I walk the malls now, I see the early morning walkers with walkers, oxygen tanks and health aides supporting them.  What would we all do without the Jamaican health care aides who seem so sweet and caring? Will that be me in a few years?

I know I have lost some of my spark physically although I still think I am vital for 60 but it seems that I have become preoccupied with how I have shrunk (wasn’t I the tallest majorette in high school?) When I wash the floors in the house, why do I awake with aches and pains I have never noticed before; did that always happen?  My skin is…well; let’s not go there because it is too depressing especially when I brush the cheek of someone in their 20’s.

My life force is waning and I know it.  It seems when I get together with friends our age; it is the number one topic we all want to chat about.  Aren't we lucky to be so healthy (and we are)?  Aren’t we thrilled to be so able especially when compared to our parents who were really old at 45?  So what’s the problem?

I guess my generation wants it all:  youth, vitality, and stamina (that’s more of a guy’s thing I guess) and we’re not happy that age has its price.  When I was pregnant with my wonderful son, I used to say that he was tapping my life battery because I could feel the how much he took out of my system as a pregnant woman.  I guess it’s a little like that; the only difference is age is beginning to sift off parts of my life force in exchange for maturity, wisdom, and time to reflect.

Time is a funny concept measured in spoonfuls of life with mostly the luxury to reflect rather than be in the now:  I always wondered what present tense in French meant.).  So send me more of those viral emails and You Tube suggestions because I have the time…