Another candle on the cake, or maybe just a lot of paraffin. Not denial - - - perspective. I am one of those obnoxious people who really believes that you are as young/old as you feel. Not that it gives me a license to act like a fool, but that it gives me the license to act without assigning a chronological demarcation to it. I've been in a lot of situations in my life where my number wasn't right.
- I was born after the cutoff for Kindergarten, but my parents sent me anyway (I think you really just wanted me out of the house). I was always a little bit younger than the other kids - so what.
- I was 11 years old when my father passed away. He was 40. We were both the wrong number, but there wasn't anything that could be done to change the moment.
- At 14 my mom remarried. Was I too old for a daddy? Too young not to have a father? Regardless, I was the right number to meet the "Amazing" Arno (IYKYK).
- Some may say that 66 is too old to start a new job. I say that age brings experience, and experience has equity - and challenge brings vitality.
- The average age for being diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma is 70. I was 61. Wrong number yet again? My "youth" helped with my response / my recovery.
The list could go on, but the point is that for some people their number doesn't matter - for others, it distracts them. I know 20-year-olds that act like old farts. I know folks over 90, who may look tired on the outside but whose eyes and spirits twinkle like a teenager (love ya, Aunt Millie). It's your number. You can let it rule you/define you, or you can ignore it - the choice is yours and the results (the "life") will be what you make them.
