By most accounts I’m still considered young, but I’m beginning to feel old and starting to wonder if I wasted my youth on unimportant things. I wonder if I’m still wasting it sometimes. Probably. My thought, though, is that even though I’m not old yet I’m not young any more either. But I can still remember being young.
I haven’t forgotten it and I find myself wanting to cling to it. I’m beginning to better understand that “mid-life crisis” cliche…not that I’m there yet, but it will likely hit at some point in time. Possibly? Most people associate that with men, but I’m sure women must suffer from it, too.
Here’s the thing: I look at my beautiful grandmothers and I realize that they are just like me. Young inside with all those memories of youth still floating around them like silk pajamas. Who wouldn’t like some silk pajamas, right? Ok, there are a few people, but just imagine one of your favorite feelings. Old people may look old, but my oh my, they are not old. They are young people trapped in aging bodies! They sometimes act grouchy and frustrated because they are, but not at you. It’s at the ofttimes trapped feeling they get from not being able to do all the things they could once do for themselves or eat what they want to eat or go where they want to go….
People in their later years are amazing storehouses of life, love, hope, pain, joy, suffering, success, failure, temptation, strength, passion, compassion, knowledge, mistakes, lessons, and sooo much more. I am seeing now, even though I am not quite old yet, that the dreams of youth and the hopes of the past along with everything else will linger until we die. I am so inspired by all the people who are in my life that have gone before me in this world and I hope I never take for granted that they were young once and that their youth still lives within.
I know mine will. For better or worse, my years will never remove this youthfulness from within me no matter how much it does from my body. What about you?