Just Another Day

Today’s my birthday – 80 years old today.

It’s a milestone of some sort, I guess. Eighty relegates me to that group of people most vulnerable to succumbing to COVID-19, or having a serious case of the flu that’s going around, at risk of experiencing a severe cold that could land me in hospital.

In my head, however, I’m feeling none of what seems to be expected of a typical 80 year-old person. I’m still reasonably fit, interested in what’s going on in the world, actively engaged in creative pursuits. Not bored, not lonely, not feeling unproductive, neglected, or useless. In other words, I’m not feeling OLD.

Today, I went to the aquafit class as I have done every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for the past 27 years. I worked through the same routine I always do as vigorously as usual. I then spent an hour and a half sharing English with Ahmad and Basira and their boys, recent Afghan refugees to Canada – something I’ve been doing for the past two months. I’ve had a bunch of phone calls with people I haven’t heard from in quite some time wishing me a happy birthday, including my 98 year old Aunt Goldie in Toronto. I have some sewing I intend to resume after I’ve written this. Later, I’m having dinner with some friends in the building – not a birthday party, but leftovers from the holiday season.

My life seems to be continuing as it has for the past couple of decades. Today feels just the same as yesterday.

Instead of slowing down, I lament that there aren’t enough hours in a day to accomplish all the things I want to get done!

Making Kugel With Huxley Before Christmas

Today will come and go. It’s really just another day in this cycle we call a life.