“I’ve become an old woman, I know that it’s true.”
This was the first line of a poem, “Lamentations of an Old Woman,” I wrote nearly four years ago. I was not yet 54 years of age.
I have lamented many things in life which really did nothing more than contribute to stress levels, cause me headaches, make me angry, and waste a lot of time and energy on things that simply do not matter when we consider the “grand scheme” of life.
Today, I looked that poem, because I labeled my day off as lost and largely felt literally justified to lament, as I still had five blog posts to become current with the “A to Z Blogging Challenge” and got started with late. (Likely that you have now learned that I am quite the loquacious, ludicrous, though lovely lass! Of course, all the L-words come flooding into my brain now that I’m being silly!)
I must admit that this past year, having been “lucky” enough to have been diagnosed with a rare cancer, I lament less and less.
A few weeks ago, a 20-year-old participant of my career transition workshops said to me (about my age), “You are my grandmother’s age. In fact, you’re a little older than her.”
There was a time, when I would have been downright offended. I must admit, however, that it did catch me off-guard. But to live long enough to become an old woman (in some people’s eyes) will never be something I lament…ever again.
Every day that I am able to wake up to be able to continue to
LIVE, LAUGH and LOVE…
…makes this old woman just a little happier.