The older you get, the more a birthday leads you to think about how many more of them you’ve got left. Today is my 63rd birthday and I’m in a melancholy rather than a celebratory mood. I suppose I could celebrate the fact that I’ve made it to 63, given that too many of my contemporaries haven’t.
The thing is, mentally, I don’t feel 63. Physically, I’ll admit I am starting to, but my weekly visits to the gym with my personal trainer are paying off in that the stiffness and lack of movement are being warned off or at least delayed.
But I can’t play contact sports any longer. I can’t play tennis as a fall would possibly break a bone, given I have sever osteoporosis. Running is a rarity, after my knees being damaged in a fall off the stage and the fact I have had a hip replacement. Keeping off the weight is ever more challenging, the older you get.
In addition, a few years ago, I stumbled across a website in which you entered all your health details, and it would predict the date of your death. Stupidly, I couldn’t resist temptation and was rather shocked when I was told I would be dead when I reached 64 and a half. Hmmm. Food for thought. Or is it? I just did the test again on a different site and it came back with 92. That’s more like it.
I used to calculate my life expectancy by the number of world cups I might live to see. If I die at 92 I’ll live to see another eight! And you never know, England might win one.
So most of that is pretty negative. There are positives of being in your sixties, though. Or maybe I should be saying “early” sixties!
I like to think with age follows wisdom and perhaps better judgement. You value time a little more, especially as it passes by so quickly. At school, a week seemed to last a month. Nowadays, it lasts the flicker of an eyelid.
Calmness is something else that comes with age. I’ve always had a bit of a temper, but I genuinely can’t remember the last time I lost my shit with anyone or in a particularly trying situation. I’ve always been good in a crisis and generally handle things very calmly – it’s always been little things that make me irritated or angry. But less so nowadays. Phlegmatocracy rules the day.
In former decades I’d be looking at retiring in two years, but it’s not something I am even remotely contemplating. I’m just as busy as I’ve ever been and I simply cannot imagine it being different for many years ahead!