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It seems that society is addicted to keeping track of a personís age.

Why, I ask, are we concerned with oneís age? For some the negative emphasis that being old is in of itself not something to be proud of attaining.

When we pass a certain age group, the scary 65 number, society tells us that it is the time to retire. Never mind that you feel great and are at your prime regarding your health and well being.

Stats Canada 2009 life expectancy numbers indicate that we are for the most part living longer and healthier then ever before. The "girls" on average in Ontario are living into their 84h year working out at the Y on a daily basis. The males are not as fortunate struggling to make it till their 81st birthday.

The women are more inclined to take good care of their health focusing on who they are, while the macho-like men are more stressed out with what they are. To attain the gold plated status quo too many men feel the need to make a name for themselves. Men are less likely to be proactive when it comes to their well being.

Those who take early retirement often times find themselves bored as they watch the clock tick-tock take away their precious time while looking back at the past as a distant diminishing fading beacon. The rear view mirror always has a very small image compared to the panoramic view in the front window that allows us to enjoy the present while eagerly contemplating the future in our lives.

My mother, Ida, who died at the age of 87, demanded that my brother, Jack, and I were never to divulge her age in her obituary news paper column. She reluctantly reminded us that she had lied about her age for many, many years to her girl friends. When we would call her to inquire of her well being she would often tell us that : "she was too busy to talk to us." When she was critically ill in the hospital she responded to my sister-in-law, Janís "good bye mom" by telling her, "See you later, you hear."

I recently discovered a poem that you can share with your friends.

Count not your age by the years you live,
But by the happiness you give.
The goals you reach, the good you do,
The confidence that is placed in you.
Count the little things that day be day,
Bring cheer to others on lifeís way.
And do not measure time by years,
But by lifeís laughter, joy and tears.
Measure by friendships, old and new,
And by the lives that are brightened because of you.
By deeds of love from hearts of gold,
That keeps dear folks from growing old.
Count not your age by years alone,
But by the gladness you have known.

...Poet unknown.

Len Lesser

Len Lesser posts a report every week

You can email Len at lenlesser@hotmail.com