Life afer...
(random photo of something I like, which has nothing to do with this post)I used to stare in disbelieve at my friends when they announced their desire to die at 50, 60 or 65, because they didn’t want to grow too old, too weak, too sick, too dependent on others, etc. I never saw the point of choosing a random age to define being old, as there are plenty examples of the active & fully alive people of that age and conversely the half-asleep people of the younger age. Today I stumbled on the blog of a woman, who moved to London from Paris at the age of 74, and on the whole seem to be enjoying her life. I find her example inspiring and am wishing to be in the good health & sound mind when I reach her age. (She also appears to have an even bigger book addiction than I do, which makes her extra likeable)
3 comments:
I'm 61 and I don't plan on checking out in the near future.
Tina, maybe you should start your own blog. :-)
Thanks, I have to add, that I felt older at 40 (when my then husband was in love with a very young woman)and less at 50 (when I was in love) and less even at 60 (when I was remarried)- and at 70 I crossed the ocean to meet someone (also it was not a huge success as souvenirs go).
What my friend, Stephanie, used to tell me (she was almost 90 then): what is important is not to die before you die, and that at any age. Remain inside still young, curious, adventourous, ready to discover and experiment.
Finish, when you grow old inside, when you are too ill to think.
My great great mother (grandma's mother) was young in heart at 94 and a lot that I know about my familly came from her speaking one to one to a young girl of 12 I was that time. She was not seeing at all, but all excited about things she heard on radio, new things that were happening, as well as transmitting familly traditions to me who went to visit her after school.
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