Getting a little older every day

Someone younger than myself asked me how it felt to be old. Initially I thought she had to be pulling my chain; me old?

Who are you kidding? I mean I don’t really think I am old, but I do have four kids, a dog, a cat, and a 30-year mortgage.

If you want a real test of whether or not a person is old, just ask them about their 401K. If they think it is a new punk band, chances are they are not old.

But if they actually know their balance and it leads into a lengthy discussion about markets, politics, and social security; then it is likely they are old. But her question made me stop and think.

I still don’t know how many years you have to be around to be old. But I am getting closer to being the kind of person that I thought I wanted to be. Sure I left some dreams unfulfilled; but somewhere along the line I willingly exchanged them for some new ones.

I know that my body has fallen in disrepair. Kind of like a house that needs new paint and carpet.

But, I don’t worry about it so much any more. Yeah, I look in the mirror and wonder about the old guy staring back at me.

And like a house that looks “tired” and needs to be freshened up I am sure to the person driving by I probably look like a “fixer-upper”.

But to my too kind and loving wife who knows all the stories behind the “dents and dings” they bring character and value because they are the very tapestry of life… our life.

But, I don’t think that I would exchange my too kind and loving wife, my family, my old mother, a few good friends for a flatter belly and a few less gray hairs.

In fact I kind of like myself now. I don’t feel guilty when I eat that extra cookie or those almond M&Ms or don’t get my daily run in.

Sometimes, I don’t care if the garage isn’t perfect and I am quite happy if my too kind and loving wife, Turbo and I just go for a walk. I have run 13 marathons; I don’t have to run 13 more to prove to myself that I can do it.


I have been around long enough to see some very close friends and family leave this world without discovering the freedom that comes with getting old enough to be young in heart.

Remember, when you were a kid? Back then we loved to play until we were exhausted, eat cookies until we were full, and play basketball at the elementary school until it got dark.

Back then, we didn’t feel guilty about laying on the grass looking at the clouds and talking to each other about nothing.

Somewhere along the line, we became obsessed with “becoming” something important and spent too much time looking around to compare ourselves to others instead of looking up and asking God if we are good in His eyes.

But if you get old enough, you start feeling less guilty about sitting on the deck holding hands with your too kind and loving wife, eating almond M&Ms, or stopping to talk to people at the Post Office.

There are times when I sing as if no one is around; the other day I sang a song to my wife using nothing more than a banana for a microphone and my new iPod hooked to my computer.

There are times I get sad to remember youthful days in the sun, I pine to recapture a lost moment with my kids, I ache to hear my dad’s reassuring voice. But that is the beauty of life.

I went to California a few weeks ago and all those that splashed around on the beach with endless enthusiasm and strutted past one another looked at me with pity thinking, “Who is the old dude in running shoes?”

But, they too, will get old. And I am given peace because now that I am older, my laughter is sustainable, theirs is fleeting.


I forget things sometimes; but I am finding the older I get that I let go of things and am able to forget things that probably didn’t matter anyway.

You should try it. If you have been holding onto something that makes you bitter; it is time to cast it away. Get over the wrong that someone did to you so many years ago.

You don’t have enough time in this life to plot your revenge, imagine a different ending, or live for the next class reunion to show them that you have finally made it.



I know the pain of a broken heart; I lost my brother too young and my father died before we reconciled all our differences. I have seen the sadness for a pet that has been killed, the agony of divorce, the consequences of poor choices, and held a child that didn’t get invited to “the party”.

But having your heart broken is what makes us human. It is the best of what makes us capable of loving one another, of soaring among the gods, of holding one another and knowing that all that is said by a soft touch and stolen glance is more than a book can express.

Somehow, I survived high school, blew through college, worked most of my life, and escaped a near miss with cancer and here I am seven years later grateful for every gray hair I have.

Some of my laughing is etched in lines of familiarity on my face. They look like wrinkles to those that don’t know anything about their 401K; but to me they are life, they are character, they match my imperfect life and tell stories about places that I have been, love that I have felt, and dreams that I didn’t find.

So I am glad that she asked me what it was like to be old. There is a freedom I have found in not reacting to the many stresses of life. I have experienced the calming words “Be still and know that I am God.” He takes care of so many of my worries; after all, He is usually up all night anyway.

So I am going to try to enjoy things a little more. I will eat those cookies that aren’t good for you, and walk instead of run, and maybe I’ll watch the clouds and talk about nothing.