When I turned fifty, I laughed at the arrival of my AARP cards. When I turned fifty, I followed protocol by enduring a colonoscopy prep to allow someone to stick a camera where the sunshine doesn’t shine, in effort to get a gold star and not have to go through it for another ten years. When I turned fifty, I decided to work with my body changes instead of fighting them. I decided that growing older is a privilege not allotted to many. Aging has become my partner.
Yesterday as I retrieved the mail and sorted through the many invitations for credit cards and car insurance that promises “better rates”, I found a promotional invitation addressed to me. Curiously, I read it and laughed. It was inviting me to consider a new assisted living complex built nearby. Before I could be annoyed that anyone would think I was ready for such a thing, I paused. First, I realized that this could be a good thing. Imagine, being assisted with Bryce’s college tuition or perhaps Bailey’s transportation. Oh wait, I guess that is not what they mean. It says “assisted” not “assisting”, so my thoughts of easy living while I age evaporated.
I tossed it in the garbage with all the other junk mail that continues to come on a regular basis and resumed my life as a vibrant yet aging woman. While I am not ready for this type of living, I appreciate that I am on their radar. They must realize what a wonderful contribution I would make to their community. Maybe they are in need of individuals who can provide a certain level of sarcasm or snarky commentaries. While they may have found the right person, they will have to wait, I have too many other places in need of my unique ray of sunshine.
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