Today I am grateful for aging. Bad knees, bad stomach, bad eyes, and sudden sleepiness that hits around 5 pm. These are the things that . . . well, let’s be honest. They suck.

Even worse is menopause where it takes a starvation diet and a marathon of exercise to lose one pound. My waist is . . . um . . . thick, and my boobs droop low enough they seem to be saying, “Yup. It’s pretty big down here.”

And yet I look at my grandbaby and think, thank God I am here to play with her. She is light and happiness wrapped up into one wriggling bundle. And she’s just discovering her voice. Have any of you heard toddler babble? It’s delightful enough to make the hardest of hearts break open.

And you know what’s even better? I can blame my bad knees for not crawling around the floor with her. My daughter does that. I sit in the corner and hold out my arms. Eventually, she comes to me, and that is the most joyous thing of all.

Getting older isn’t something we’re taught to value (after we hit our twenties, that is). I am slowing down. I am finding that I value quiet instead of frenzy, sweetness instead of neon brilliance. Don’t get me wrong. I still love frenzy and brilliance, just in small doses. And I would never have realized that if my aging body hadn’t put on the brakes.

And guess what? I’m aging, not old. I’m in my 50s, so I’m not exactly one foot in the grave. There’s new frenzy coming after this pandemic is over. To which I say . . . thank you aging body for still having a lot of kick left in you!

Now it’s your turn. What about growing older makes you happy?

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