Don’t Die Inside: Living Life to the Fullest at Any Age

Granny was more than just a friend. She acted as a grandmother figure to our children and mentored them in many ways.

During Christmas, she came to our house wearing a bathrobe and slippers and had a great time.

Since her grandkids and our kids were around the same age, they played together frequently. Once, we were shocked to find the kids dancing on the coffee table. Granny told us, “Leave them be. They’re only kids once, and tables can be replaced.” Those are such wise words.

She didn’t receive a formal education, but she gained wisdom through the trials she faced. After her husband passed away, she was left in a clapboard house next to the railroad tracks. She used wallpaper to hold it together to prevent it from shaking apart every time a Santa Fe locomotive passed by.

Her health wasn’t the best, and eventually, her kidneys failed while she was on a dialysis table. I was present when she passed away.

One of the many lessons I learned from Granny was that everyone grows older, but growing old is a choice. It’s possible to find joy in sorrow and contentment in pain.

As I reached the age of Medicare eligibility, I thought of Granny. Her smile concealed a difficult life. Her hands had “worm” veins (as she described them to the kids who asked). Her face was wrinkled from years of living, and her eyes were dimmed by macular degeneration.

She was older, but never old. She embraced life and viewed each day through her soul, not her eyes.

Recently, I thought of Granny again when my Bible class studied the death of Moses. One phrase accurately described this 120-year-old man.

“Moses was 120 years old when he died. His eye was undimmed, and his vigor unabated.” (Deuteronomy 34:7, ESV)

He could see without physical eyes and continued to live fully. That’s a person who doesn’t let age hinder them.

Too many people die at 65, but their bodies linger for another 20 years. They die inside, and their physical selves wait to catch up.

Longfellow reminds us:

But why, you ask me, should this tale be told

To men grown old, or who are growing old?

It is too late! Ah, nothing is too late

Till the tired heart shall cease to palpitate.

Cato learned Greek at eighty; Sophocles

Wrote his grand Oedipus, and Simonides

Bore off the prize of verse from his compeers,

When each had numbered more than fourscore years,

And Theophrastus, at fourscore and ten,

Had but begun his “Characters of Men.”

Chaucer, at Woodstock with the nightingales,

At sixty wrote the Canterbury Tales;

But in the end, the poet doesn’t let us rest. He sees what life consists of.

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.

Try something new. What challenges do you need to face? It doesn’t have to be a marathon; it can be as simple as trying to touch your toes (which I’ve discovered it is harder as you get older). Recently, I took archery classes and a fly fishing course. Who knows what will stick? Explore life.

Assist someone else. As people age, they may become more dependent, but everyone can contribute to another’s life. A smile in the hallway means a lot to someone who needs it. Make a phone call. Visit a friend. Find a way to give life away because it’s a gift that never runs out.

Stay active. You don’t have to run a marathon, but keep your body moving. What impressed me about Moses was that he climbed a 2300-foot mountain to pass away. Write, read, and play games. Keep your mind and body active.

Deepen your spirit. The spiritual aspect of life is like the physical. If you don’t drink water, you become dehydrated. Many people are spiritually dry. Engage in worship and Bible study. Read the Bible and share your thoughts with others. It keeps the eternal part of you flexible.

As the years go by, life changes. Wrinkled skin and achy joints replace the youthful appearance of a teenager. But while you age, don’t become old. You have no control over the former, but you do over the latter.

I performed Granny’s funeral and wept my own tears. But when I left the cemetery, I whispered to myself, “That’s how I want to grow older.”