Age Is A State Of Mind

I’m not sure whether I believe it or not when people say age is a state of mind. When I look at how hard it is to roll out of bed in the morning with nothing hurting, I know I’m getting old. When I look at how much slower I am at almost everything than I was just a few years ago, I know I’m getting old. When I look at how long it takes to recover from a five mile run, or a forty mile bike, or a two mile swim, I know I’m getting old. Don’t get me wrong! I know there are a whole lot of people younger than me that can’t do a five minute run, or a forty minute bike, or a two-laps-in-the-pool swim, so at least I’m ahead of all of them.

I wrote last week about driving “the girls” down to Three Rivers and looking up places where I used to live and go to school and how it made me take a trip down memory lane. So Monday I drove up to “the cottage” at Bass Lake near Traverse City to see my mother and my Aunt Juanita (we called her Aunt Neat). My grandfather built it in 1950 when I was three so it’s been in the family all my life and we spent every summer vacation there as I was growing up. I helped do a couple of things that were too heavy or too awkward for Mom and Aunt Neat to do and then I took another journey into the past. I remembered all the good times we had there and every story I told was a story of not just me, but family activities. I didn’t feel like I was six years old again, but I did feel a lot younger than sixty and that must be what people mean when they say age is a state of mind.

I know I’m not supposed to reveal other peoples’ ages, but if you know I’m sixty, you know my mother must be older than that, so I’ll tell you that Mom is 82 and Aunt Neat is 78 (sorry Mom…don’t tell Neat I gave away the secret). Both are in excellent health but certainly not spring chickens. I listened to them both tell stories about when they were growing up in Owosso. They talked like it was yesterday and they were still teenagers. They talked about their sisters and their friends and what they did after school. If I had closed my eyes I would have thought they were both still sixteen and their sisters and parents were still here with them. So then I believed, even if only for a day or two, that you’re only as old as you think you are.

Many of you know by now that Thursday was quite exciting around here. We were watching the evening news when they said that Hastings was going to have a severe thunderstorm around six-thirty. The wind was very strong and was swirling here at the condo so Jean made a bee-line for downstairs. I was looking out the window when I saw what I thought was a large limb falling. I realized that a whole tree was going down and, luckily, it fell toward the golf course.

It was a huge oak tree and the very large one next to it has quite a crack at the base and will probably have to be cut soon. There are several “widow-makers” (broken branches hanging from the tree that’s left) that need to be taken care of before it will be safe to walk around out there. At the end of the cul-de-sac in front of the condo another two trees bit the dust, missing the cart shed at the Country Club by inches. With all the bad luck we’ve had in selling the Green Street house and the cottage, we were lucky that the trees fell the other way and not on the three seasons room. The cottage and the house on Green Street had no damage at all. The power was out at the cottage for four days and all I lost was three small bags of frozen vegetables, a half a jar of mayo, and eight eggs. Small price to pay compared to the people who were in the path of the tornado over by Potterville.

Glad for Nancy and Bill that all went well and the recovery train is on the tracks.

Just (Happy To Have Dodged Another Bullet) Jack

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