As I observe the souls in my life it really makes me laugh. I don’t connect well with people my age, but give me someone twenty, thirty or forty years younger and I fit like an expensive glove. I have found the majority of those my age are physically and mentally “old”. They live in the ‘remember when” past.
I have a copy of my birth certificate so I know how old I am supposed to be, legally speaking, of course. My mother, to justify the fact that she married my father in June and I was born in December, claimed until the day she died that I was premature. Sorry mom the paper work clearly states full term. That might explain why I have always had a problem with math.
Recently I had the opportunity to provide a meal for five people in my “family circle”. They were my youngest grandson (8), a granddaughter (23), my daughter (30), her finance (37) and my ex-husband (72). The group pretty much covered all age categories.
As I looked around the table I realized that except for my young grandson, I was the healthiest and youngest soul there. I must be doing something right and whatever it is I am going to keep doing it. Apparently I should have listened to my chiropractor who recently said she thought I was 15 years younger than I am. Perhaps the reason I can’t find the “companion” I am waiting for is because I am stuck in the wrong age group. Now there’s a thought!
Speaking of age I would like to share a poem that my daughter framed, several years ago, for my young grandson to give me. It is one of the nicest gifts I have every received, because it is a perfect fit.
Walking with Grandma
I like to walk with Grandma,
Her steps are short like mine.
She doesn’t say “Now hurry up”,
She always takes her time.
I like to walk with grandma,
Her eyes see things like mine do.
Wee pebbles bright, a funny cloud,
Half hidden drops of dew.
Most people have to hurry,
They do not stop to see.
I’m glad that God made Grandma
Unrushed and young like me!