Same Old Dog But a New Trick

"It was the best of times; it was the worst of times." So begins the novel, A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. He was, of course, referring to London and Paris during the French Revolution, but he could just as easily have been commenting on old age.

In many respects, our later years are the best of our lives. Most of us -- in the Western World anyway -- are resting on our laurels. We no longer head out each day to take our place in the work force that keeps the wheels of society turning. We generally fill our days with activities of our own choosing. We reflect on our lives and begin to understand ourselves and others. We develop a patience for things we had no tolerance for when we were younger. And though our time is getting shorter, we are in less of a hurry. We eat what we want when we want and we take naps. Some of us travel, some devour books, others garden, golf, do jigsaws puzzles or take up mahjong.

The downside of aging is the traitorous actions of our bodies. At first it's just the odd grey hair, a line on the face, and the need of either longer arms or glasses for reading. But little by little -- usually without us noticing -- we develop annoying ailments. It could be back pain, a bad knee, allergies, swollen ankles, acid reflux, or arthritis. The older we get, the more aches and pains we accumulate, until we need a spare room to keep them and all their assorted remedies in.

We are no longer able to do many of those things we never had enough time for when we were younger. But the thing is we don't want to do some of those things anymore anyway. Many of us gain weight and everything moves south a few inches and settles in saggy lumps, but again, that fact stops being all important, because without our glasses, we can't see ourselves anyway, and we're smart enough not to spend a lot of time squinting in front of the mirror.

But we haven't put countless decades into chasing life just to roll over and resign ourselves to the idea that the best is behind us. What was, no longer is, but that doesn't mean we're finished. We still have life ahead of us. As long as we have a reason to get out of bed in the morning, we must keep moving forward in positive, productive ways and ignore or work around the setbacks as best we can.

I thought it would take longer to get old, but the older I get, the older I realize old is. (If you understood that sentence, you are miles away from dementia. Either that, or your mind is as warped as mine.)

Because I know I'm easy to fool, I make a point of frequently tricking myself. For instance, I have always realized that people need purpose, and I've noticed that too often folks die only a few years after they've retired. My conclusion: ending their 'work' lives left them without purpose, and with nothing to push them to keep going, they simply stopped. Not wanting that for myself, I cleverly decided never to retire. So at 45, when I left teaching, I told myself I hadn't retired; I had simply changed jobs. I was no longer a teacher. Now I was a writer. And there is no retirement age on that. I was safe. Take that, old age!

I'm happy to report that my convoluted scheme seems to be working. I have 30 published books under my belt, several more searching for publishers, and another half-written. So that should satisfy me, right? Yes. And it does. But ...

At the end of November, I received an email from a publishing house asking if I would like to illustrate a picture book. What! Talk about a bolt of lightning out of the blue. I don't even have a portfolio of work out there. Yes, I like to make art, and I post some on social media and my website, and yes, the idea of illustrating a book is something I've considered -- in the furthest recesses of my mind -- but I never dreamed of ever being offered the chance to do it!

Before I could talk myself out of it, I said yes. So now I'm thrilled and terrified. I think I have the skills, but I've never illustrated a published book before. I don't even know the process. They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but I'm determined to prove those naysayers wrong. I may not know what I'm doing yet, but there's a first time for everything, and I can learn.

(At right -- practice sketches, as I try to find the right image for the main character of the story.)