I remember being at my grandma’s house and always seeing her pill case next to her bed on the nightstand. Labeled with each day of the week, a.m. and p.m., full of (what looked like) yummy little candies. Watching her take her morning pills I asked, “Grandma, what are those for?” She pointed to each pill explaining, “This is for my high cholesterol. This is for my high blood pressure. This is for headaches which I get from the blood pressure medication. This is for my arthritis. This is fish oil…” “Wait,” I interrupted. “Fish oil? Like the oil from a fish??” I was immediately grossed out. She responded, “I’m not sure if they squeeze the fish like they do with olives or what, but honey, never get old. Getting old is awful!”
I remember those words today more than ever as a toddler has me running marathons around my home on the daily. At the same time I creak and pop just trying to get up from sitting on the floor.
It seems like suddenly overnight I make noise walking up the stairs. I get up to pee in the middle of the night almost as much as I did when I was pregnant, and I find myself wondering if I should look into the benefits of fish oil.
Although my grandma has been gone for years, I still remember exactly how she said, “Getting old is awful!” In the moment, she scared me straight. I was horrified to get old and creaky and dependent on an assortment of pills like a box of chocolates. I always heard my parents mention achy joints, tense muscles, organs loosening, and brains getting foggy. We talk about aging through the eyes of aches, pain, discomfort, grief and deterioration. And I get it. As I age, I begin to speak of my body through those lenses too.
But what if we could shift our perspective, even just a little. What if we began to speak about aging through lenses of wisdom, appreciation, fascination, understanding, discernment and gratefulness?
Instead of focusing on the way our bodies are failing, what if we focused on the way they have saved us? Because the reality is, aging is much better than any other alternative.
If I’m aging….
If I’m aging, that means that I get to see my children crawl, walk, run.
If I’m aging, that means that I get to see my husband, spouse, partner, be an incredible parent.
If I’m aging, that means that I get to follow my passions and my dreams.
If I’m aging, that means that I get to foster relationships with loved ones.
If I’m aging, that means that I get to create new traditions and continue to fall in love with old ones.
If I’m aging, that means that I get to lead, teach, guide, counsel, and mentor others.
If I’m aging, that means that I get to witness young people, generations below me fight for equality, love and justice.
If I’m aging, that may mean that my body is achy and my muscles are tense. But if I’m aging, may that also mean that my soul is nourished. May it mean that my heart has been broken and repaired, broken and repaired. May it mean that my life has been full. As a parent who isn’t getting any younger, may the aches and pains remind me of jumping off playgrounds with my daughter, swinging her around in circles, picking her up to mend wounds and broken hearts. May my aching body be a reminder of the ways it has served? Loved. Cared for others. Cared for myself.
We won’t be able to ignore or forget the aches and pains. And that shouldn’t be the goal, either. But those aches and pains and creaks and cracks can be constant reminders to see life through a grateful lens. For with each ache and pain that exists, is a moment to be thankful for life.
