Aging with Humor

I’ve reached that interesting stage of life where I can spend 45 minutes lifting weights at the YMCA, walk a couple of miles, and then need a nap because staying young is exhausting. At 67, I’m probably in the best shape I’ve been in for decades, although my knees seem determined to dispute that claim.

Between Medicare, church committees, Florida politics, and my ongoing attempts to become a better Stoic, there’s certainly no shortage of things to keep me occupied. I’ve even gone back to work, which suggests either an admirable enthusiasm for life or a serious misunderstanding of what retirement is supposed to mean. And somehow, amid all that activity, I’ve discovered something I didn’t quite expect.

Getting older has given me a greater appreciation for ordinary days, good friends, meaningful work, and the people who make life worth living. I’ve had my share of difficult times, and I suspect there are more ahead. But at 67, I’m finding that the view from this particular stage of life is pretty darn good. Even if I occasionally forget why I walked into the kitchen.