SWINGIN'

Today I'm wearing a ponytail. I'm 60 and wearing a ponytail. Is that stupid? I don't think I look all that stupid. I'd estimate it's been over 20 years since I wore one. Oh, I pin it back into something somedays, but not one of those cheerleader type tails. This one swings. Cool.

I'm also drinking Ensure, and did glimpse some old woman in the mirror where I should have been, so there's no chance of actually feeling sprightly or young.

In fact, this week I feel so dang old that I could just lie down and cry. So weary, so sore, so tired of being ME. How long am I going to waste my time regretting the Nov. surgery, anyway? It's OVER, so get past it, Linda. Oh yeah, and you'd have died without it. Move on.

But there is this: I'm writing to an old friend on the West coast. How fun to reconnect with someone I'd not seen in over 20 years. Such sweet memories. And I still have the ongoing correspondence with a few "renewed" friends who live in "my" corner of Ohio. And I'm writing about "who I am" to a past friend's daughter whom I've grown to love in her own right. And there is the old friend in CO, and another in FL. And on it goes. Being "old" is so much fuller than being 16 and cute.

Well, assuming I was ever cute.

It takes a lot to be old. A lot of something I didn't think I had. Apparently, I do. The irony is that one cannot appreciate it until one is old oneself. In some ways, this is really hard work. In others, it's so much easier now. We get smarter, we get wiser. Those are not the same things, by the way. Young people can be smart. Old people are the only ones who can claim wisdom. Life leads to wisdom, if lived right.

It might be harder to climb the stairs, but it is easier to live with pain. It's harder to finish my chores, but it's easier to ignore things that don't matter. It's harder to remember everyone's name, but it's easier to talk to the ones who do matter. Shy? Not anymore. Afraid? Nope. Encouraged? Daily.

I think I'll shake my head a bit. Just to feel the swing.