“You know that expression about age being only a number?” I asked the lovely Snapdragon a few weeks ago. “Well, it’s total hogwash!” My arms were aching thanks to manual labour, something which I’m not accustomed to.
This week, I toured Namaqualand with a colleague who is 11 years older than me. It happened to be his birthday on Wednesday and he made the most of it from the moment he opened his eyes. There were several drinks and songs from the touring group involved. His phone rang continuously and he had long conversations with his three children and every time he made a point of telling his grown-up child that he loves him or her.
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“Did you enjoy your birthday?” I asked him later that evening. “I enjoyed every moment,” he assured me. “As a matter of fact, it just may have been the best birthday of my life.” “Do you feel 67?” I asked, remembering the day I told Snapdragon that age is not much more than a mere number. “No,” he said. “I feel young. Apart from a few aches and pains, I always feel young in my heart.
“When I was 30, I tended to make stupid remarks because I didn’t know any better. I still do it. I may have more experience and hopefully a tad more wisdom, but in my mind I’ll always be young. On a good day, I don’t feel a day older than an 18 year old.”
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His remark haunted me for the entire day yesterday. Yes, my body ached that day. But there is a reason why I decided to marry a much younger woman and have a child at almost 50 – I don’t only feel young, I am young for my years. Even if it’s not always wiser. But I’ll take another page from his book – tonight I will also tell little Egg that I love her. Because that’s what older, wiser men do. Even if they feel young.
