It’s December and I’m turning 80 . . .
The number 80 contains the infinity sign tipped upright –and a zero because nothing can be added to infinity. For me, it’s confirmation that my life is exactly as it should be. I don’t stress about the imperfections in my personal world that tend to be naggers in my head and spoilers in my heart. Simply put, I’m good to go.
Turning 80 is like standing upright after being crouched over endless tasks and discovering a whole world radiant with sunshine. Filling my lungs with the sweetest of air, I feel like dancing, like singing melodies I’ve all but forgotten, like being the me I inadvertently sometimes leave behind. It’s not too late, though, turning 80.
Through the years I’ve been told I look young for my age. Maybe it’s a snippet of infinity nestled into my DNA, a little cosmic happenstance. It allowed me to avoid the customary cutoff date for retirement without any fuss. Retiring at 77, fellow employees never suspected I was closing in on becoming an octogenarian. Were it not for my worsening hip problems, I might have continued working a couple more years.
There have been times I’ve felt inexplicably larger than my physical being, as if expanded by the sheer excitement of being alive. Two total hip replacement surgeries later, my body has finally adjusted to a quieter practicality. Even so, my heart still leaps for joy, agile in ageless appreciation and gratitude for life’s interminable wonders.
My family surprised me with an early birthday present on Thanksgiving. I was clueless as I read the extra-large 14 x 22-inch card filled with tender and loving messages and cutout pictures of some of my cherished places in Seattle. I was born in Seattle, living there until I turned 17 when I moved to Pasco where I completed my final year in high school.
My present was a large red wicker basket filled with gifts. The first thing I pulled out was a dark gray T-shirt with a stylized image of an airline ticket to Seattle, complete with a drawing of the space needle. As I hugged it to my chest someone said, “You know that ticket won’t work, don’t you?” Laughing, I told them of course I did, then started to reach for another gift.
Stopping me, my son persisted, asking me if I had noticed anything noteworthy about my card. “Well,” I said, “it’s filled with photos of some of my memories of the time I lived there.”
“What do you think the T-shirt means?” he continued. “And did you notice I used the word trip in my message to you?”
Started, I shot a look at him. “A trip down memory lane?” I said, the lights beginning to turn on in my brain. Suddenly aware everyone was chuckling at my cluelessness, I began to cry. They responded, telling me yes, I was going to Seattle and that they were all going with me.
So, 63 years after leaving my birth city, I will return once again with most of my family. The photo above is of the nine of us who are going to Seattle together, taken in Kauai this past March. That photoshoot was especially planned to celebrate my 80th year on the planet but, truthfully, I’m already in heaven!
Comments