36,817,200 minutes. 25,550 days. This is 70 years old.
On September 3, I entered into my seventh decade. I thought my mother was old when she turned 70. I don’t feel old … well, my increasing aches and pains might argue with that. I find myself wondering if a new ouch will become a frequent visitor or a constant companion.
I now have parts that cannot be replaced. I’m no longer given a yearly PAP exam because Medicare says that part is no longer under warranty.
This break into my 70s has given me food for thought and fodder for my column. I would like to say I’ve reached the age where wisdom has arrived looking like Glenda the Good Witch from The Wizard of Oz. That’s so not true. Wisdom has arrived, looking rather weathered and weary, more like the Mayhem Man.
The journey to 70 has taken a few not-so-fun detours and yet delivered some glorious revelations. On the road to wisdom, I’ve met some strange characters, evil Cruella de Vils, and Dastardly Doolittles. They have taught me lessons I never imagined learning.
I’ve embraced the fact that the “hereafter” has become a frequent discussion. What did I come in here after? Also, I have hide-and-seek issues. Have you seen my ___? It’s interesting how many things I find that I forgot I lost while looking for something else.
The fact is, it goes deeper and is more involved than the obvious physical and mental aging issues. On occasion, I hear my mother in my voice, and even my actions are like hers.
There is a commercial on TV with a man training young people not to become like their parents. The battle is futile.
Whenever the grandkids come over, they rarely leave empty-handed. I intentionally prepare extra food for them to take home. No, I do not save food containers for leftovers. My mother’s refrigerator was always a guessing game; a good plastic container was never thrown away. A Cool Whip container could hold chicken livers. Surprise! I buy inexpensive plastic containers in case they forget to return them. I’ve also been known to purchase platters and dishes at thrift stores in which to send leftovers home. I got this idea from the Red Geranium Presbyterian Church Bake Sale.
A hymn sung or hummed early in the morning makes the day feel better. My mother did this most mornings. Strength, as well as peace, is found while singing a hymn. Psychologists talk about “grounding.” Nothing will ground you like a hymn.
Jim and Audrey Hart in their early 70s. (Photo provided by Janet Hart Leonard)
I find myself being like my mother, as I strike up conversations with random strangers in the grocery store. I hope others come to appreciate the value of two cents’ worth of my vintage wisdom. Did you know that green beans, even the canned ones, taste better if you add a little chicken broth and bacon?
I keep a sweater for restaurants in the car. As you get older, you tend to feel colder. Why are restaurants always kept so cold? “Eat Fast and Dash” seems to be their motto. I’m more of a “Sip and Linger” diner. I wonder why someone doesn’t organize a Celebrate the Seniors’ event where we have dinner at 4:30 with a singer singing soft oldies music. Weekly? Monthly? Do I hear an offer?
The day after my birthday, I told my daughter and my husband that I will be less hesitant to share my opinions. Emily fell over in the booth at First Watch and said, “I don’t think we can handle that!” Chuck laughed. They believe I’ve already found my voice and am not afraid to use it. Time will tell. Stay tuned.
At 70, I have the bruises of life’s bitter ups and downs. I still shake my head at the things I put up with far too long. My should-haves and could-haves still haunt me. I do not dwell on past bad decisions. I realize they have shaped me into who I am today. Stronger and wiser, a force to be reckoned with, but a gentle and kind force.
I want to make every minute and day I have left the best they can be. My mother passed at 94. I still have people tell me that she made a difference in their lives until the day she passed away. I hope others can say the same about me.
BTW, my mother WAS a force to be reckoned with … but a kind and gentle force.
Janet Hart Leonard can be contacted at janethartleonard@gmail.com or followed on Facebook or Instagram (@janethartleonard). Visit janethartleonard.com.