I met my gal pals for coffee yesterday…these magnificent ‘71 Divas Do Coffee. We started meeting once a month about four years ago to gather at a coffee shop and participate in a little “caffeine therapy”. I had a coffee group in Colorado that met once a week for 35 years and I really missed the camaraderie. I gathered up my friends and invited them out and now we can’t imagine not getting to see each other at least that once a month visit. There are now offshoots of the group that meet for lunch almost every week. Some of them meet to take care of a flower garden in the City Park. A few of them are going to drive down Monday to see a sick friend in Huntington. They are a grand group of gals with many common bonds…predominantly graduating high school together.

Some of us were talking yesterday about how different our grandmas were when they were our age. And how we looked at them then as SO old. We are just heading into our Medicare years. We are active, healthy, and youthful compared to our counterparts when they were 65.

Now, don’t get me wrong. My grandma was a hard worker. She could work circles around women half her age. But there were differences. Some grandmas in the ‘60s worked at home. They had raised their kids and their gardens…they washed clothes in a wringer washer and hung them outside to dry. They washed their kitchen floors on their hands and knees. They rarely went to the doctor. They baked their own bread, canned and preserved food from their land. They killed rattlesnakes and copperheads in the outhouse. They cut down trees and hauled brush. They wore sensible shoes and modest cotton house dresses with a belt and a pocket for their hankies. They may not have had much formal education yet they were smart in every way necessary. They knew their neighbors and they knew their bibles. They more than likely didn’t drink or smoke. They were a different breed.

Our generation had many more opportunities than our grandparents’ did. We moved from the farm and worked a 9-5 at an office or nursing at a hospital. We worked hard, to be sure…but not necessarily at hard labor. We got better educations, better healthcare. We voted and protested and worked for women’s rights. We bought our food in a grocery store. We had modern conveniences like automatic washing machines and dryers and dishwashers and microwaves. We bought ourselves some time. We had clubs and entertainment. We had television and news of world events. And we inched ever closer to that glass ceiling.

Fashion aside, 65 year old grandmothers now are vastly different than most grandmothers of the ‘50s and ‘60s. Did my grandma FEEL old when she was my age? Do our grandchildren SEE us as ancient like we saw our grandparents. It boils down to how WE feel and I feel younger in most ways than I did thirty years ago. I know that won’t last forever. I’m feeling the pain of arthritis in my hands and knees and hips. I don’t remember quite as well as I used to. I have to take a handful of pills at night. But, I’m telling you this right now…I won’t go down without a fight! Because…today is the BEST day…the ONLY day that matters. I’m looking forward to many more.  ❤

“Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained in the way of righteousness.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭16:31‬ ‭NIV‬‬