Skip to main content

Embracing Age

Yesterday's post made me think about the other side of ageing, which is really nice for me. While it comes with lots of aches, pains, limitations and worries, I like this part of my life better than any other that came before it. Yep, that's the truth. Why?

#1: It's just me and my guy now, which means I don't have to take care of any other people anymore, which has been pretty much a daily obligation since I was a kid. I was also forced to be a caregiver in nearly every situation, like taking in, detoxing and putting through high school an annorexic, drug-addicted younger sister who no one else wanted to deal with, even our own mother. Not having to do things like that anymore? So nice.

#2: I still work at the best job I've ever had -- my dream job -- and this particular job is the very best of all of those. It makes up for all the wretched jobs I had to work before I got my dream. Never having to work for jerks again? Wonderful.

#3: I've ended my relationships with all the people who were toxic to me. That's a very long list, and it took a lot of courage that I didn't think I had. It's also bliss not to ever have to deal with those people again. Bliiiiiiiiiiiiss.

#4: I'm growing as a person, in that I've come to terms with most of my own personal issues, and I'm working on improving myself. I'm having a lot of fun with my textile art and just being me for once in my life. I even have friends who aren't using me for my connections (because I don't have any connections anymore, hooray!)

Everyone seems to hate old age, but I love mine. What I hated was being a child. Every school I was forced to attend was awful; so was spending three or four days a week in church. Back then adults didn't just hit kids, they beat them (and I have the scars to prove it.) I couldn't escape the hateful people who bullied and hurt me, and developed too many phobias and defense mechanisms because of it. Even if it meant living free of the physical pain of arthritis again, I'd never relive the first 17 years of my life.

Bonus benefit: People generally don't touch you when you're older (a huge relief for me, as that's my biggest phobia. I have to know you very well and like you before I'm comfortable with being touched by you.) They don't scrutinize your appearance or care what you're doing. Mostly they ignore you because you're not someone who appeals to them for any reason. That's an awesome superpower, like I'm invisible to other people.

Finally, now that my time is basically my own, I can enjoy living. I'll never be a great artist, but I am having fun with the things I make. I'm learning all the time because I have time to teach myself new things. I don't have to be beautiful or professional or even presentable. I'm writing this post in pajama shorts and my old University of Maine Black Bears shirt with the holes in it. Who cares? Not my guy. Not me. :)

Image credit: Image by Engin Akyurt from Pixabay

Comments

Maria Zannini said…
Ugh. Yes and no.
I love retirement which is a gift of old age. I do what I want to do--when I want.

No more forcing myself awake when I had a night of insomnia. No more dealing with employees who acted like children. No more office politics.

You mentioned being invisible. I used to hate that, but now I like it. It's liberating.

I hated being a kid too, but only because I was anxious to get out in the world. Being a kid was too confining.

I think old age makes you more reflective. I see more sides now and I'm better able to make good decisions.

Arthritis still sucks though. :-)

Popular posts from this blog

Other Stashes

Along with clearing out the spare bedroom and tidying my office and our guest bedroom, I decided to reorganize some of my stashes. This is all the yarn I have on hand, sorted by color. It looks like a lot, but lately I've been using up a minimum of half a bin every month, so this is approximately a year's supply. All of my solid color cotton perle thread. I go through a lot of this every year, too. I need a container in which I can fit all of it together, but I haven't found the right one yet. I won't show you all of my fabric -- I'm still reorganizing this stash -- but I went through everything and donated two bins of fabric I won't need to the local quilter's guild.

Downsizing

This was my fabric stash once I sorted everything -- 22 full bins. I spent a day taking out and boxing up what I could part with, with the goal of trying to reduce it by half, so I'd have 11 bins. I was very strict with myself, and removed everything that for one reason or another I was sure I wouldn't be able to use. This is what I ended up with -- 12 bins of fabric that I'm keeping. It's not quite half, but close enough. Half of what I took out went to a local quilter friend, a school and Goodwill. These four tightly-packed bins will be going to the local quilting guild once I make arrangements with them for a drop-off place. I am relieved and a little sad and now determined to control my impulses to thrift more fabric. I don't want to do this again, so until I use up six bins, I can't for any reason bring any new fabric into the house.

In Progress

I promised myself I would show you the good, bad and ugly of my cleaning this year. This is what it looks like when you dump thirty years' worth of stashed fabric on the floor -- and oy, what a pain in the butt to pick up again! This is what it looks like after it's been sorted, folded and placed in containers, which took me about a week. Now the hard part is to downsize my stash by at least half, I think (that's my goal, anyway.) I've already e-mailed the president of the local quilting guild, a local friend who is a quilter, and a public school art teacher I know to see if I can donate some of the excess to them. The rest will go to Goodwill. Already I've reduced my vintage textiles from two bins to one, and my scraps from three bins to one. It's probably the hardest clean-out I've done, which is why I saved it until last. I know I have too much fabric, more than I can use in my lifetime -- but at the same time, I love it. So I have to...