Does age really matter? Is it in fact just a number? Today, Abi put both feet into his 6th decade of life. Happy Birthday babe. When I was a kid, teenager, adolescent, I thought 60’s! OMG! That is SO old! Isn’t it interesting though – now that Abi has arrived (with me following a few years behind) I’m looking at 60 and thinking, eh. It’s just a number, right?
We have an adorable teenage girl who works with us here at the inn – she is my #1 housekeeper and I’d be lost without her. She happens to share the same birthday as Abi, she turned 17 today. She told me yesterday that 17 is a funny age. At 16 you get to drive, at 18 you’re an adult, but 17 is just stuck in the middle. I laughed and said, “Well, at 18 we think we are adults but we are a long way from being adults.” At 17 she is one of the most mature young women I’ve ever had the pleasure of having in my life, she will make a fine adult of this I am sure. She is wise beyond her 17 years, although she probably thinks we’re SO old!
I know someone who on this day is walking the Camino de Santiago with his wife. He has 10 years on me and he is logging 15 – 20 miles per day, walking the path. Age is just a number, right?
My friend, Talon, told me recently, via email, that he plans to not grow old no matter what age he is. It’s all about having the right mindset and how you choose to live your life.
I like to believe age is just a number and that as long as we keep up with life, life will keep up with us. Unfortunately, as I write this my left hand feels as if there is a small knife stuck right into the pad at the base of my thumb. It is rebelling from overuse and handling of heavy pan handles. My right hand joins in the rebellion from time to time as well when I’ve whisked too many eggs or clicked the wireless mouse too many times.
Okay, so maybe there are some aspects of age that catch up to us from time to time, but I refuse to surrender. I’ve got way too much living to do.