What’s in a name? What’s in a number? Here are ten thoughts I have about growing older and maybe wiser…

I am sixty-two….62….6 decades plus two more years but what does that mean?  Numbers are supposed to add up but how does age equivocate to life passage? Well I am not sure about the full definition because I have learned to count my years in terms of learning rather than time travel.

What have I learned so far? 

Number one:  Well, I am not always right; this was a tough one for me cause I balanced my days on being right and now I know the truth, I am sometimes wrong.  Well this is not really a big discovery but I have been fighting it for decades and now I have come to peace with it.

Number two:  the older I get, the more I feel:  tired, a little arthritic, a little less likely to get up and exercise, and a little less “get up and go.”  I assume my body is a little tired so I read more; in fact, I read a lot and that’s a good thing;  “Game of Thrones”, anyone?

Number three:  I don’t hear my mother’s voice in my head.  I hear all these women say that they do but I don’t, does that make me different or not the norm?  Guess what, I don’t care.

Number four:  I care less and less and less what other people think of me or anything for that matter.  I leave others to their own thoughts and definitions of life; I like mine; it’s easier not to care of others and their persnickety ways.  (Not my mother’s word in case you were wondering).

Number five:  I have rid myself of those others who burden my life.  I am not “everyone’s cup of tea” (my mother did say this but so did everyone in her time) and so I leave those others who don’t care for me to themselves to stew and talk about each other without me.  I assume it makes them happier and me a lot happier.

Number six:  I love my son more than I love any other person and I think that is how it should be.

Number seven:  I accept my mistakes and move on and I mean move on.  So what if I had not lived my life perfectly (have you or anyone else?)  I just don’t feel its necessary to relive or review my imperfections.

Number eight:  Sunny days are better than rainy ones and there are always more sunny days than rainy ones; I haven’t actually counted but I think I am right about this so if it’s raining, wait the sun will come back.  Patience is a virtue worth cultivating.

Number nine:  I like certain activities:  writing, riding my bike, being with Joe, seeing my friends, looking at happy pictures of my past, playing with The Zeff, reading, and driving to the beach so I think I am going to do more of these and less of other things.

Number ten:  I prefer foods that taste good, that are good for me, and ones that may actually prolong my life because I love living regardless of the pain or anxiety that life may direct my way; remember rule number eight; the sun will shine again and if not, I hear you can buy a special lamp that gives you the equivalent of pure sunshine.

Be happy, be sunny, and do what you like in life that makes you happy; don’t wait until you are 62….

Mother's Day....my favorite day.

Happy Mother’s Day to all!

My son lives on the west coast and many people say, “Don’t you miss him since he lives so far away?  Giving this much thought, I say, “No” because I see my son everyday and everywhere.

I see him in the affectionate smiles of a pregnant woman as she rubs her belly unconsciously. 

I see him in the sparkling eyes of an infant who stares at his mother in church. 

I hear my son’s voice in the unmistakable babbling of “da da da” as a child reaches for a toy in the supermarket aisle.

I see my son in the morning sunlight and can distinctly hear him on my side of the bed saying, “Come on mom let’s play and be quiet cause we don’t want to wake dad.”

I see my son playing at the beach with a serious look on his face as he piles wet sand into his bucket attempting the architecture of a lifetime.

I see my son catching leaves in the backyard; making up some complicated game and talking quietly to himself.

I see my son going on his first date with trepidation and excitement.

I see my son staring at the evening sky waiting for a meteor with patience and enthusiasm.

I see my son escaping high school with his mother for a Star Trek movie.

I see my son in every skateboarder that goes by.

I see my son in London, Paris, Greece, Turkey and Costa Rica and, most importantly, in our backyard.

I see my son in every handsome young face unblemished by life’s trials.

I see my son as a man; good, wise, and reverent to all.

I see my son as a husband, caring and loving with eyes of admiration for his wife.

I see my son everywhere in all that is good and kind.  I don’t miss my son because he is far away; I have him with me everyday and always.