I want to grow old gracefully.  I am slowing down physically.  A nap in the middle of the day is almost an necessity.  I do not want to complain about my ailments.  My Mom did not like it when I told her, “When you get old, parts don’t work right any longer.”  I am well aware that the fact my kidney function has stabilized the last three years is totally by the grace of God.  Dialysis has not yet been necessary.  Everything is by grace.  I know my time will come and I will return to dust.  No one lives forever.  And we act as if we should.  Death is the last taboo.  I just want to get older with dignity and grace.  That is my only prayer.

I want to grow old gracefully.  That is a choice I can make.  I used to tell my Mom after she used to complain again about her fading health, “Parts of your body when you get older just don’t work right.”  She has been dead seven years and lived until eighty.  She did not like hearing that.

I am not as old as she was when she died.  I am sixty-one now.  Even at this age I can tell you parts already do not work perfectly anymore.

I do not want to rant and rail as I get older.  I pray to the Lord above that I can accept my limitations as I get older and do not complain and center on the things that I can do.

I do not want to become bitter as I age and my body breaks down.  I know human beings go through a cycle:  first they are dependent as babies, then become independent and finally as they age become dependent on others again.

Hopefully I will become wiser as I age and not complain because I have grown older and no longer can do certain things physically.  I am praying that as I age I can accept my limitations.  I want to grow old gracefully and not bore others with my ailments.  Everyone has them.

I want to grow old gracefully.  Death is the final frontier.  People do not want to talk about it.  From dust you came and to dust you shall return.  These are not my words.  Everyone knows this is true yet we pretend this will not be our fate.

Sometimes death comes suddenly:  An heart attack, stroke or even an accident we could not predict.  I want to squeeze every bit of life I can that is given to me.  And go out gracefully.

My Dad lived until ninety one, my Mom eighty.  I do not know for sure if I will make it any where near that.  Yes, I will take good care of me, eat properly, exercise and sleep properly but death is not my calling.

It is God’s timing and if God gives me more time I will accept it with grace.  Love those around me.  After all that is what life is about:  Love, work and grace.  Wasn’t that Freud’s definition of health:  to be able to work and love.

I can not think of a better definition of health–to be able to love and work.  That sums it all up.  When my day comes I hope there will be a celebration of a life well spent, of a life of a person who truly loved the people around them.

Amen.