Square Peg ● Round Hole







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.