I fell hard a few months ago. Broke my femur. And here I am, in this place, learning to ask for help at eighty-five. I never thought I’d have to learn that.
My sons kept saying, “Maybe you won’t make it back home. ” I wanted to prove them wrong. They were right. If I could talk to my twenty-year-old self, the first thing I’d say is: “Keep going.
Enjoy what you have, and always stay busy. Take life as it comes. Don’t try to plan it all out in advance, and don’t worry about every problem. You can’t solve them all alone anyway.
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I don’t want to go back to my twenties. I really don’t. I hear people say, “Oh, the good old days, I wish I could be young again. ” Not me.
I’d rather move forward and see what’s still ahead of me. I’m more curious about what comes next than what’s behind me. Maybe I’d also tell her not to forget to have fun, even when there are duties and serious matters. Be honest with yourself.
And don’t expect people to be who you imagined they’d be. Everyone has their pluses and minuses. The sooner you accept that, the less life you’ll waste trying to fix others. I was too cautious.
I stayed home too often because of fear. I would have liked to travel more, see more. But long journeys terrified me. I still don’t like airplanes to this day.
I was only twenty when I had a husband and a little son. I was still studying. Everything happened so fast. Before I could think, I was responsible for a whole family.
If I could go back, I’d tell myself: think twice before marrying a man whose work always matters more than home. It was a difficult marriage. Still, I’d tell her to walk her own path, not stop, and try to love people even when they don’t deserve it. And learn to enjoy the place you are right now.
Something else might surprise you: I’d also tell her to pray. Not everything can be changed with your own hands. Faith sometimes doesn’t change the situation—it changes the person who has to go through it. People ask what others don’t understand about old age.
Some think you can just sit an old person in a corner and never ask them anything, as if we don’t have our own opinions. Not everyone keeps their memory and strength. I was lucky. I still have my mind, my hearing, and I know what’s going on.
So don’t decide for me as long as I can answer for myself. They say old age can’t be pleasant. Maybe. You notice things you never had time for before.
It can also be worse than young people think. Without friends, in loneliness, or without good memory, old age can be heavy. To someone who fears aging, I’d say: you have no choice, so make the best of what you got. No one will live it for you.
Young people think aging is very hard. I’d say it happens all too easily. They think life shrinks with age. It doesn’t have to.
If I decide that nothing is allowed anymore, I’ll really start living that way. Life changes form, but a person doesn’t lose their value or curiosity. You’re still yourself. You just move slower.
Living at this age, for me, is a bit of a miracle. In my family, people didn’t live this long. I’ve already passed the age my parents reached. I honestly didn’t believe I’d live to eighty-five.
Every day is a gift. What’s it like to be ninety-two? The same as always. I have plenty of energy and can do almost everything if I give myself more time.
I don’t run anymore. That’s true. Other than that, age is just a number. If you keep telling yourself you’re old, your body starts to believe it.
Don’t make your whole identity about your age. Do what you still can. At ninety-seven, I’m lucky. I fell twice, broke my arm and wrist, and still I can do almost everything myself again.
The doctor told me to come back in a year. I said a year is a long time and I don’t know where I’ll be then. I meant it. At this age, you don’t plan too far ahead.
But every ordinary day tastes sharper. At ninety, I’d say it’s normal. If my legs worked like they used to, I’d probably still be working somewhere, or at least leaving the house constantly. My legs don’t cooperate anymore.
I have plans in my head, but my body doesn’t ask my opinion. I’m healthy. I can walk. I can go where I want.
But for every task, I need help. So for now, aging is almost interesting. What’s the secret to happiness? You have to make your own secret.
If you wait for someone to bring you happiness, you might wait forever. You have to learn to live with people. Sometimes you agree, sometimes you don’t. If there’s no common solution, let it go.
Be yourself and notice the moment. We have one life that we remember. I believe we might come back more than once. Maybe we’ve lived hundreds of times.
I can’t prove it. But that thought gives me patience. You also need to have fun. I sang a lot.
I had a little trio, and we’d travel to performances. Those are my best memories. For me, faith is the key. When a person knows God and can trust Him, they have something deeper than temporary satisfaction.
Happiness can come from outside. Joy is deeper and stays even when the day goes against you. I can’t explain it better. For me, happiness and joy are simply two different things.
Do I regret anything? No. Although, I wouldn’t marry the same man a second time. Other than that, I won’t complain.
I have various regrets, but not all are worth telling. Most don’t hurt anymore. I regret words said at the wrong moment. One sentence can stay with a person for years.
I don’t want to hurt anyone by not staying silent. You have to be good to others and to yourself, without exceptions. Constantly punishing yourself doesn’t make anyone better. If I could live my life again, I’d do most things the same.
I would just want more travels. I still have a long list of places I probably won’t see. After my fall, my life changed. Today I travel through photos from my children and grandchildren.
When they go somewhere, I ask for pictures. Then a piece of the trip reaches me. When I was very young, I got pregnant without marriage. My parents were furious and ashamed.
For a long time, I looked at myself through their eyes. Over the years, things calmed down. My parents came to love the child and stopped returning to that anger. Then I understood that people are the most precious, especially your own children.
Shame passes, but the person remains. What one advice would I give others? Be good to yourselves. I don’t argue long, because there’s nothing to gain from it.
When my children did something stupid, I rolled my eyes. They would laugh, and the problem got smaller. I still enjoy life. I tell my children not to despair after I’m gone.
I had a good life, I traveled, and I have no right to complain. Be good to people, but also be good to yourself. If you hate yourself, it’s hard to give real love to another person. How do you learn to love yourself?
I like myself because I still enjoy the day. I’m alive. I have my own opinion, and I haven’t said my last word. I’m fine here.
People are kind, and I give that back. That’s enough for me. Don’t be rough. Love people, because love answers more things than we think.
It doesn’t solve everything, but without it, almost nothing can be repaired. Be good, kind, and patient with yourselves. Not only when the other person behaves the way you want. And what do you do when kindness seems impossible?
Pray briefly and simply, then take one good step. You’ll see the rest of the road later.