Old Age is a Gift.

(I just got this in an e-mail and I love it!)

Old Age, I decided, is a gift
> >
> > I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I
> >have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair
> >over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt.
> >And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my
> >mirror (who looks like my mother!), but I don't agonise over those
> >things for long.
> >
> > I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my
> >loving family for less grey hair or a flatter belly. As I've
> >aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of
> >myself. I've become my own friend.
> >
> > I don' t chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not
> >making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I
> >didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled
> >to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant.
> >
> >
> > I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon;
> >before they understood the great freedom that comes with ageing.
> >
> > Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer
> >until 4 AM and sleep until noon?
> >
> > I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60&70's,
> >and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love .. I
> >will.
> >
> > I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a
> >bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I
> >choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set
> > They, too, will get old.
> >
> > I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is
> >just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important
> >things.
> >
> > Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your
> >heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child
> >suffers, or even when some body's beloved pet gets hit by a
> >car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and
> >understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine
> >and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.
> >
> > I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning
> >gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into
> >deep grooves on my face. So many have never l aughed, and so many
> >have died before their hair could turn silver
> >
> > As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less
> >about what other people think. I don't question myself
> >anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.
> >
> > So, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I
> >have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am
> >still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have
> >been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert
> >every single day. (If I feel like it)