I’m back with my A2Z thoughts on being in my 70s. Today I’ll start with the letter G and see where that leads. Follow along boys and girls if you are under 70. These insights are bound to prepare you for the future.
G=Grumpy or Grouchy or Grateful
One thing you will notice is that those of us over 70 take advantage of being grumpy and grouchy while secretly enjoying a sizeable dish of gratefulness. Grumpy and grouchy are near and dear to us because people imagine old folks to be a bit cantankerous, so we express our likes and dislikes rather openly.
Its expected of us, don’t you know. And we certainly do not want to disappoint our audiences.
But deep down, I mean really buried , hidden from the casual observers, is a streak of gratitude, waiting to be mined and brought to the surface where it will shine in the fullness of the sun.
We keep it closeted, just to see if anyone is interested enough in us to unearth our vast supply of gratitude. Then we hope they ask the puzzling question, “Why are you grateful?”
We will smile, and answer, “Because I am here.”
I’ve learned in my 76 years to expect and rejoice in unexpected happenings.
Yes, some of those surprises could have happened to someone else, someone I don’t like. But then most of these minor miracles bring delight and joy, similar to finding a wrapped birthday present four months after you celebrated your big 7-0.
I consider these flukes as happenstances, or twists of fate, or accidents. But they are real, and for some unknown reason coincidences come along at the exact time when they are needed.
I recognize as I sneak a backward peek at my life, many quirks I labeled as disasters were instead catastrophic shifts clearing a path previously shrouded from view. At the time the newly exposed road was unappreciated and frightening.
But, funny how things work out, it was the perfect route to where I wanted to be. I’m embracing those mysterious happenings like Forrest Gump’s box of chocolates.
I’ve spent most of my life seeking a status of importance, whatever I thought that meant.
I worked hard, not necessarily for the betterment of womankind, but to satisfy an internal need to prove I was okay. Along the way perhaps I helped someone, but the goal was to claim the illusive crown of Importance.
Being important is like being rich. How do you know when you get there? It is a never-ending search, an unreachable goal continually dangling inches from your grasp demanding your focus so you miss the beauty and purpose of your journey.
Then when you reach your 70s, you discover the crown is a tattered piece of cardboard, the sparkling diamonds are cheap rhinestones and the darn thing doesn’t fit.
Yep, importance is illusion we can dismiss with relief.
April 10 and April 11
You are wondering what Jello and Kool-Aid have to do with being in your 70s. Well, If you currently are 70+ you are in the generation reared on jello and Kool-Aid, and what treats they were!
Probably still are, but we aren’t so enamored with them as when we were 8 or 9 or 12.
My paternal grandmother made the BEST Kool-Aid because she was generous with the sugar. No matter whether it was cherry, grape, strawberry, lime or any other flavor, I lived on that sweet high all afternoon into the evening of our summer stays with her. There was nothing better than a cold glass of Kool-Aid with a peanut butter sandwich and a bowl of green jello with pineapple chunks mixed in.
Do grandparents still sneak those syrupy treats to little ones when parents aren’t looking? I hope so.
Those are my thoughts for the past few days. Stay tuned for more life in your 70s.