Time changes things. Or…where was I while I was getting old? I recall the many times that a colleague or friend guessed my age as significantly older than I actually was. I was honored and pleased that I appeared mature beyond my chronological years. I became a supervisor when I was 21. My full-time staff were much older than me and even some of my student staff were older as well. We wore uniforms but I wore a cardigan sweater in the cool and cold months as I thought that the look lent me a bit of gravitas. When asked how old I was…I would respond, how old do you think I am? Well…those days have passed a long time ago. Now people younger than me speak to me somewhat differentially and with an eye to my probable diminished capacities. On October 24th I turn 65…and I think that I still have the curse/gift of looking older than I am.

Sixty-five means Medicare. I have thought about Medicare and worried about the enrollment process for most of the year. I have had wonderful insurance from my career at Southern Illinois University since I was 20. This morning I spoke with a lovely lady who finished my enrollment process into Medicare and I wondered what I was, ‘Crying about Mon,’ as the parking attendant in Philedelphia asked me years ago when I did not want to leave the car windows down and the car keys on the driver’s seat…to facilitate his parking of the automobile.

Old is really a state of mind. You can either bemoan your lost youth…or be ecstatic about attaining the age that you are. I choose the joy of life. I enjoy books and my life has indeed been an interesting and engaging read… I discovered as a child that I certainly was not better than my neighbor…but they as well were no better than me. Seek your own path and know your own mind. Do not wait for a leader to tell you the path to take or what you should be thinking. Make your own mistakes and be proud they are yours. Sing your own song and enjoy the music.

God speaks to all of us. If you need assurance of God…stand in the woods and listen.