I was a Girl Scout once, and a pretty good one. I especially took to heart the Scouts’ long-standing motto, Be Prepared. You see, I was – am – an introvert with a busy inner life (code for obsessive worrier) and being prepared for everything seemed like great advice. Be Prepared worked well for me until I approached seventy. Nothing could prepare me for seventy and a straight-up calculation of remaining years, creaking knees, and escaping memories. I function much better when I grab pen and paper to categorize my musings. Here are my loosely poetic thoughts on growing older:

Creation. God’s intention.
Every leaf, every star.
Everything was made to be
With purpose and effect.
No accident, me, as I am
As I shall become,
When age reconfigures
My original composition.
Lower energy,
Increased wisdom.
Eyes that see less clearly,
And yet more clearly
At the same time.
Accept what I must.
Change what I can.
Make a strong finish,
With love and joy.