I wasn’t really much of a Beatles fan when I was young until Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band was released in 1967. One of the tracks that got my attention was ‘When I’m 64’, but because the idea of being 64was so alien to a fifteen-year-old at the time, I didn’t think much of it apart from it being a rather good song. However, now that I AM 64, I re-run the words in my mind, and they take on a lot more meaning and significance.
As I now saunter into the winter years of my post 64 life, increasingly tormented by the ravages of age, I find momentary solace in a reflection of this kind. What words of wisdom would I impart (if I could) to my fifteen-year-old self from the many collected over the intervening years from all that has happened to me since then?
Time is a weird concept that no-one really understands, but it has a very annoying habit of creeping up on you when you are not looking. At fifteen, your whole life and a wide world of adventure stretch out before you. At fifteen you probably haven’t yet met that special someone who you are hoping to ‘still need you’ at 64, although you may already be on the lookout.
I met my first boyfriend at fifteen. We held hands and enjoyed our first kiss at a bus stop in the city one afternoon after school. We were the best of friends, but the relationship came to a grinding halt one day when he dumped me for someone else. At fifteen minutes can seem like hours and a day like a year especially when in the midst of emotional turmoil. I was devastated and thought my life would end.
Things eventually settled down, and we became (just) friends again, sharing the ups and downs of our emotionally fragile teenage lives for the next few years as a series of new loves for both of us came and went. Then we drifted apart: he might have been my first love, but he was definitely not my last!
At 64, my life is no longer such an emotional rollercoaster. Hubby number two and I sit listening to music from the 60s and 70s; do crosswords together and regular walks around our neighbourhood. He still needs me, and I need him, and as he is a hopeless cook, I still feed him every day, with the occasional takeaway in between. At 64, we reflect on the failure of our first marriages even though they both lasted more than twenty years and produced four children and three grandchildren we both adore.
At fifteen it is hard to imagine the thought of losing your hair, let alone settling by the fire knitting while your beloved mends a fuse after you have both spent an afternoon in the garden. At fifteen it is all about partying and spending all night on Facebook. But at 64 there is nothing better than the peace and quiet of an evening at home (with perhaps a few glasses of your favourite wine) enjoying the buzz from a handmade birthday card from one of your grandkids. So while it has taken a long time and many loves have come and gone to get to this point, I can truly say ‘yes, he still needs me, and yes, I still feed him’ and I am happily 64, And those are the simple words of wisdom I would impart.
To write for Starts at 60 and potentially win a $20 voucher, send your articles to our Community Editor here.