I Refuse to be Old Yet

     I admit that this picture is 10 - 15 years old, I have more white hair, I have put on and lost almost all of the weight I put on, and that I have, for all of my adult life, generally looked up to 10 years younger than I am. That said, I am 69 years old. I generally don't talk about my age, and certainly not my birth date on the internet for identity security reasons. But, it is relevant to what I'm going to write about.
     I decided to write about this as I have been thinking about a blogger that I read from time to time. He's merely 72. He says he doesn't do old talk. He, however, calls himself old. I am only 3 years younger. I refuse to call myself old, let alone think that I am. I know that he has had a heart by-pass surgery and has developed diabetes, but many people younger than him go through one of these. Many older people live quite well having one or both of these. He will write that he has a good life.
     After thinking about this, I told one of my sisters that I've decided that I'm not going to be old until I'm 85. That's 16 years from now. I have plenty of time to work on my health, to eat well, to exercise (my brain/mind as well as my body), to do the work that I love, and to laugh with friends and family.
     I believe that words have meaning, so why in the world would I want to call myself old? I can use my MorMor as a role model. She would take the bus places at the age of 90. I once went to the local courthouse to do part of my law school internship in the town next door to the town we lived in (they are across an invisible line from each other). And, there was MorMor sitting on the bench waiting for the bus. Maybe I should say that I'm not old until I'm 90.
     I am older, but by no means am I old.