Chaka Khan – I’m Every Woman
Dear 100 Year Old Me … and anyone out there listening,
What a grand way to celebrate my big day! I always knew I’d live long but heck, not this long. I made it; even outlived that whippersnapper who asked me at my 80th why I was still writing books! I’ve written 18 books and still have some in the works. My friend, countingduck, knows a man in his 80s who still writes… Sheesh, you think getting old is terrible? Consider the alternative and remember you’ll be either old some day or the alternative… but let me not get ahead of myself… I got some celebrating to do.
Today, I officially join the Centenarian Club. But listen, 100 is the new 78… At least, that’s what my great grandson Timmy told me this morning when I asked, “If 50 is the new 30, what is 100?” “Oh GG!” he said, (they call me GG for great granny), “Don’t make it too obvious for people to figure out…that way they’ll ask why 78?”. Timmy is right. My life sure did start again at 78. Grab a chair, sit awhile. I got a few stories left in this head of mine. I promise not to meander. The body might not be willing but the mind is still sharp as a whip.
“For age is opportunity no less than youth itself, though in another dress, and as the evening twilight fades away, the sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Aging might be overrated, but nothing beats having your engines revved up at any age. See, in case you’re still guessing, I was born in 1913, somewhere uptown. My daddy said Harlem, my mama said Washington Heights… Both liked a stiff drink or three, so who knows what they remembered; it doesn’t matter where… Fact is I was born. I went to church school where I met and married Boniface at 18. We were church school friends and found our way out of Sunday School into bedroom school. Long story short, we raised 4 kids, had a great time together with a few fights thrown in.
50 years later, Boniface keeled over and left me to fend for myself. I did get his mailman pension but I was on my own. 68 and on my own with my three sons and one daughter scattered around the world. I was feeling lonely so my girlfriends introduced me to Jim. He was a swell guy; a decade or so younger and a retired career military man and all… only problem was Jim never left the war. WWII? Vietnam? I had no idea. He had nightmares and night-sweats; Poor chap! But in the daytime we had a lot of fun; parties, dances, movies, a bit of travel and the occasional fishing trip.
One day, around my 75th birthday, he declared he was going on a reconnaissance mission and never came back. Months later, they found his body in the Hudson River… Poor Jim. He was a good man. Jim and I never married so there was nothing to collect. I mourned him and had to move on… time was
running out moving on. My girlfriends were dropping like flies but the ones that stayed alive hung out with me in the city. We exercised to stay in shape, made passes at guys to get them flustered, and took classes to keep our grey matter churning. But life really jumped for me when Charlie came along in my 78th year. Yeah, he was a good time charlie alright and the best lover ever… Shut your mouth! We do too. More below!