Self – Awareness at 70+

IT’S INESCAPABLE!

The only setting, in which I’m not aware of being the far oldest person, is in the waiting room of my pulmonologist’s office.

The reflection of myself seen in the glass door of our microwave or the window of a car, can cause me to gasp.

I cannot name one contemporary musical group since the 1980’s, the era I had teenagers living at home.

It’s best to pretend it’s never warm enough to get into a bathing suit, and most definitely never with witnesses.

Restaurants are almost always too loud for me to attempt or desire to carry on a conversation with anyone.

I realize that seemingly random acts of kindness towards me are motivated by the fact that I must look needy.

Time’s carousel is moving far too quickly, as if being controlled by a madman on speed.

Things I distinctly remember as having taken place 6 months ago, actually took place at least 18 months ago.

When I scroll down on an online site to find the year I was born, (1941) it seems as if the list will run out of years before it gets to my year of birth.  Always a shock.

I’ve lost two inches in height and added two inches onto my waist. I’m losing aka(lost) my jaw.

ON THE OTHER HAND,

I laugh at myself more easily.

I don’t sweat the small stuff as easily as in my younger days.

I’ve successfully avoided using the expression “in my day.”

I see children as miraculous beings. I see childhood as an instant in time.

I take much less for granted.  Much, much, less.

I no longer fear speaking in front of people.

I’m coming to understand that change is the ultimate reality.

The beauty of nature thrills me more than ever.