One of my favorite comedians has a tagline that is solely hers…”I ain’t doin’ it”. Delivered in her perfect sweet southern drawl, each of her short comedic messages ends with this simple phrase that describes her current dilemma she’s making jokes about for her audience. With those simple words comes a head shaking no and a roll of her big eyes. I giggle every time. I can identify almost every time she discusses a subject…wearing PJs to WalMart….Elf on the Shelf….Adults wearing Halloween costumes….look her up on social media or YouTube for some great laughs.

My own “I ain’t doin’ it” is refusing to fall into a trap of “getting old” merely because my age reflects a high number every year. Which! By the way is something I am VERY grateful for when I consider the alternative. While I often muse I have no desire to live to be 100, my only consolation if that were to happen is that my mind would be intact and working to its potential and my body free from all the aches and pains the TV commercials keep telling me are coming my way because I’m over “that age” now. What IS that age? I can remember thinking people who were 30 were one step in the grave. Then it was 40, 50 and my goodness let’s not even talk about the 60s, 70s, and beyond!

When I entered the job force with my first full time position, I was 18. I didn’t have a 401k (were they around in the 70s?) or an official retirement account. I can remember when IRAs came onto the banking scene and folks were excited to use these tools to save for their future. Me? I mostly shopped paycheck to paycheck until marriage and even then, thinking of being 62….65….72….you know–the years most people no longer work full time and draw retirement and/or social security. When  I  was 18 the days I’m in now seemed like an eternity on the road named  Future. Lots of life happened between all those 40+ years. My eyes still need corrective lens to see perfectly. Some days my husband thinks I’m ignoring him when he’s talking to me–hearing? My hairstylist says I’m not ready to “go all gray” so with her help my hair is a healthy brown…I get some minor aches and pains here and there in my joints, even had a big toe joint replacement two years ago–arthritis was the foe…other than these things which I consider all normal under the process of aging, I refuse to act old or comply with the adage “act your age”. (I’m not sure how a 68 year old is supposed to act. If you know of a guideline, clue me in so I can have a good chuckle because “I ain’t doin’ it”).

Where did I adopt my Peter Pan philosophy? I give credit to my dad. He retired at the age of 62 after a 40 year career. He probably could have worked longer but back in the 80s most folks were 62/65 and out! He and mom had saved well, he had his pension, and social security around the corner. He also had what appeared to friends at his church as “all this free time”…and though he served on various committees and boards, when asked if he’d now be attending the “Senior Breakfast” his response was “No, I want to be where the young people are…that’s where life and action happens”. He stuck to his plan, too, and enjoyed almost 30 years of life post age 62. Being a woodmaker as a major hobby, the year mom wanted a new cabinet for the kitchen also gave her the idea to have stained glass in the doors. He priced having someone do that part of the project for him, didn’t like the figure he was quoted, so he did the next best thing. He purchased a book, the tools, the materials and taught himself how to do stained glass. Not limited to the cabinet project, he went on to make several lampshades, window hangings and small light catchers. I have the fruit of his labor in my home today.

Dad’s sister, My Aunt Esther, was an elementary school teacher by degree. A major part of her personality was a love of always teaching somebody something. She memorized Dr. Suess books to recite to her classrooms. She learned how to paint teacups. She finished putting together a quilt from the squares my grandmother had stored away, clearly marked “for Ida” (my mom) and I have that beautiful blanket, too. Perhaps the most outstanding teachable goal Aunt Esther took on was housing a refugee family from Viet Nam. Her goal? Teach them English, acclimate them to life in America and above all, bring the gospel of Jesus to them by taking them to her church and prayer meetings. That beautiful family attended her 90th birthday party.

So, today, on a very cold Tuesday morning, I’ve returned from a monthly massage which I dub as “my own preventative approach to healthcare”...if I’m truly going to pay now or pay later, I’ll take now under the trained hands of my favorite masseuse, Bryan. I’ll continue to eat healthy–most of the time–get in some exercise–most of the time…think about how far I’ve come from that 18 year old who thought a certain age brought certain doom.  I’ll focus on what Biblical truth teaches me, that God is the only one Who knows the number of my days. I’ll embrace each morning as a “new gift” with many opportunities for personal growth, reflecting a bit more on where I’ve come from including wonderful family members whose goal was a zeal for life and learning. 

Get old? If Heather Land doesn’t mind…”I ain’t doin’ it”.

Me, from this past summer, after a walk or run.