The Art to Growing Old Graciously
Fifty years ago, when I was 10, I remember my sweet Granny from D’Lo telling me there was an art to growing old graciously. At the ripe ol’ age of 10, I smiled, not really knowing what that meant. Now I do. I was never good in art classes, but this is one “art” project that I intend to master. With age comes a wisdom that transcends book “learnin’.” You learn to say a polite “No” when needed; you learn to do the things you can do, and not to fret over those that you can’t; and of greatest importance, you learn who “sticketh closer than a brother,” so says the Good Book. At 60, you tend to look back over your life (if you’re brave) and realized that most of your dreams were just that: dreams. You intended to put “feet” to those dreams, but somewhere along Life’s hilly, bumpy trail, those “feet” lost their way. And when dreams get lost, they are sometimes replaced by a bevy of mistakes. And Oh! My Grasuhus! Have I had my share of mistakes along Life’s trail. Thankfully, I learned from my mistakes (for the most part) and I’m happy in the knowledge that God ain’t though with me yet! But although my dreams might not have come true, I do count myself as one blessed individual. Blessed with parents who loved me, warts and all. Blessed with dear friends, who indeed “sticketh closer than a brother.” Blessed with a strong belief in God and his only son, Jesus. And blessed with the knowledge that someday ( soon or not so soon) I’ll be granted access to a place that I don’t deserve, by someone who gave His life for me, a poor wandering wayfarer trying to get Home. Home – where there’s peace, love, and joy, no tears, no pain. It is then I will know that I truly did master the art of growing old graciously; awaiting a new, spotless canvas on which to splash the brilliant, sparkling colors of Eternity.