Aging

This article is dedicated to acknowledge examples of positives that express the community spirit of Columbus – our town.

Do you ever hesitate to tell someone how old you are? Do you ever shy away when people talk about what year they graduated from high school? Have you ever sorta wanted to fib when you were in a group discussing their age? I HAVE!! Do you want to bet? - just let me know.

Let me tell you a story about age. Last month, I called a counselor in Bryan, Texas. I chose him because my friend, Ursula, heard him speak at a Katy ISD program several years ago. He actually had written a book for teachers. He has made several presentations at the principal’s conference in Austin. He told a story of two teachers at Katy High who had actually changed his life. My interest was whetted because both ladies had children in my school – Katy Elementary. One child was actually related to numerous Columbus people.

The counselor asked Bob and me to come into his office. I had not expected Bob to be present for my counseling; however, I knew that Bob knew everything that I was going to say. The counselor asked me (or us) why we had come to see him. Since I was the one who made the appointment, I felt that I had to respond. We talked about my stroke nine and a half years ago. I explained the sadnesses my stroke had caused... no more golf, no more dancing, and no more driving. I did not tell the counselor that I was unhappy. I was here with my husband who makes my life as easy as possible. Actually, I told him the story of recently throwing my cane across the room to express my frustration. Bob asked if I wanted him to know all of this and I said “yes”. I noticed the counselor began to explain that he could not run as fast as he once could. He was about 6’2” weighing 130 pounds. It was easy to picture him as a long distance runner. He added that he also had challenges that he could no longer overcome.

Our conversation came back to “change”. .. His a normal growing older and mine a result of my stroke. I could tell I had already told him my problem. Yes, I had explained I was the oldest in my Sunday School class, the oldest attending my Lions Club meetings, and the oldest in my dinner club group. It didn’t bother me that a few tears fell as I answered my own problem – I did not want to get old. It had nothing to do with death. I just didn’t want to get old. My counselor kindly suggested that we return in a month or so and let him know how I’m feeling. So... growing old is a privilege and I hope to handle it well. How old do you think I am???