Aging: It Beats the Alternative?

When young, our definition of old may be quite a low number. I definitely remember thinking I didn't want to get "too" old. But as the years go by, our perspective typically shifts. Whereas 50 used to seem old, now 90 fits that description.

I had the interesting experience of two great grandfathers that lived to be 100, and grandparents that reached their 90s. Such a heritage caused me to reset my expectations on life expectancy. Why not go for three digits?

Then before I even lost any of my grandparents, my mom died at 66, unexpectedly and needlessly. Dad contracted lung cancer from smoking and died after a three month awareness of his diagnosis, at only 71. Recently I've had several friends die in their 40s and 50s. And this year I'm facing turning 60.

I didn't mind those other milestone birthdays. I welcomed 50, because I had heard at 50 you could stop worrying about what people think, and I said bring that on. However I've been dreading this one. Perhaps part of it means entering the decade I lost my mom. Considering when to retire. Facing declining health and appearance. Lots of life changes ahead, some welcome, some dreaded.

I've been content to let my hair gray, have no intention of having any "work" done, so as I age, that's how I'll look. I'm finding that more difficult to accept than I expected, preferring to still appear young and healthy. I've typically been guessed to be ten years younger than I really am, but even at that rate, I will eventually look old.

So I'm trying to learn to accept that as not being a curse. Our culture values youth, but the Bible praises the wisdom of the aged. I don't dislike people for "looking old," so why do I think I will lose status for that same thing?

My heart was encouraged last week by visiting my uncle. He's my mother's brother, and since I can't take my grandkids to see her, I wanted them to meet her brother. Uncle Jim is 82 and suffering from Parkinson's disease so he is losing ground. But his wit and humor remain, his impish smile, his kindness as he dragged out toys for my granddaughter to enjoy. As we prepared to leave he helped pick up the toys as well.

She enjoyed playing with him, and when it was time to go, she even gave him a hug. Back at her house, she kept talking about Bapa Jim (as she dubbed him, her grandpa name coupled with his first name) and how he had toys to play with. She liked Aunt Mahnaz too, who's only in her 60s, but it was Bapa Jim she talked about later.

When I looked back at the family shot I had taken, one of them shows her looking at him intently.She was undeterred by his age or physical condition. Through the eyes of a child he was a welcome playmate.

And at the moment it's those eyes that matter to me. I want to be able to enjoy my grandchildren, those I have now and those to come. Visiting my uncle reassures me that is still possible, well beyond 60.

Somehow it's challenging to age past my own parents, but I hope I have the privilege of doing that. They say ageing beats the alternative, and I think that's true, until it isn't. A day comes when heading home to Jesus beats the condition life has become for us, and that happens at different times for different people. Until I know otherwise, I'm hoping for a long delay.

So meanwhile I have to accept the inevitable signs of aging with grace, and focus on what I can still do and be. God still has work for me. I still find ways to help my grown children. And most fun of all I enjoy these grandchildren for whom I am Ganny. Best role yet, and may it last for decades to come.