Now that a dusting of snow has settled upon us like a wintry blanket, and holiday memories fade into the background, the time has come to think of new beginnings.
Of course some things never change. We can only hope to manage them better. Such as the arthritis in my lower back and at the base of my right thumb.
It’s about aging gracefully…until “a bell rings”…and this broad’s wonderful life becomes…heavenly. I’m thinking of George’s guardian angel, Clarence, of “It’s A Wonderful Life.” Having saved George from committing suicide, Clarence is finally awarded his wings.
I’ve so much more of life to sample. Older age is not…a death knell.
However doing nothing to revitalize ourselves can deprive us of sunshine and passion. And I’m not referring to citrus fruits. Although I’m hell-bent on downing more of them each week.
With the advent of the New Year, however, I have kept one long-standing resolution.
I’ve gone back to college! Who’d have thought?!?
Yesterday was my first Creative Writing class.
I must admit to being slightly intimidated, uncertain as to the level of writers I’d encounter. Fortunately I met a fellow classmate in the hallway prior to entering the room. She calmed my nerves considerably.
A fixture in the class for 15 years, 74 year-old Gail assured me that I would be nurtured, not judged, by our instructor Doris and the other students.
Two hours flew by, unlike my younger years in a classroom. I can remember watching the clock in those days, willing its hands to pick up speed.
Interesting how age reverses our perception of things.
Listening to others read what they’d written, was akin to feeling the rush of cold, fresh air bursting through unlatched windows.
Yanna, a musician, wrote the most soulful piece about her beloved dog, the surrogate child unto whom she pours all her pent-up, maternal feelings.
Helen, who recently returned from visiting her native South Africa, shared intimate memories of a 95 year-old friend who died. Through Helen’s writing, we came to know a woman whose life had resembled a precious gem…preserved in its natural beauty, not having yet been mined.
I have deep admiration for an 88 year-old who has been Doris’ student for the last 5 years.
Pat is writing her memoirs, hoping to publish them in a book. Her story promises to reveal her family’s hardships and heartaches in the aftermath of their mother’s death, and the subsequent inability of their father to parent.
To write is to tell one’s story. We are all storytellers. We are all writers.
…resolve to write your story…make it your new year’s resolution…