Monday, April 30, 2012
Broken Dreams, By Evelyn Watson
I love Evelyn’s reflections on aging. They are so personal and insightful. It’s something we often avoid thinking about, yet the reality is that each of us must face the changes that aging brings to our minds and bodies. What do you think of Evelyn’s approach? Is there encouragement here?
The Lord is near those who have a broken heart.
According to the enveloping apparel of my body I’m no longer considered young, yet secretly I don’t believe I’m really the age of the loose fitting, un-ironed, blemished covering I’m beginning to wear. Perhaps a little worn but still plenty of wear left, I tell myself. I have never thought I was old. I realize I have aged but certainly I can’t be considered old.
Regardless of the amount of years I may accumulate I shall not be old until not only my strength is gone but my mind no longer allows me to think myself young. Limitations shall not make me old for the young suffer those also, although the aged suffer them more. We all suffer illness and disease, handicaps and loneliness regardless of age.
Being old becomes a battle in our minds watching and dealing with the changes taking place in our bodies. And as we struggle with unfulfilled dreams we realize will never materialize and when hope of those dreams begin to fade from our thinking, then, we will wake up one day and know that we are old.
Changes are happening in my body and yet the health I am still blessed with gives me the strength and mind to continue believing I am young. I like who I am better than when I was younger and the peace that abounds within my soul I wouldn't trade for the look of youth. Some things that come with aging make it easier to accept. I accept my outside worn look because I like the new look inside. Aging has brought some good changes as well as those I don’t consider to be an asset.
It’s those broken dreams that have bothered me. Being the idealist I am, I found it hard to let them die when I know realistically they won’t come to pass. They’ve lurked in the shadows of my mind and when I thought they were gone I found they were still there, and then the struggles of letting them go once again becomes my challenge. I am convinced I will carry some of them to my grave before I am free of them but perhaps the struggles with them keeps me young, because should I let them go I would certainly be old. Yet, like broken shells upon the shore remains of life once lived, my broken dreams give tribute to my life and shall be reminders of the person I know I really was.