The game of life when 65 years old

I’m officially old.

It happened on a single day last week, Thursday, June 1. It was not a surprise. It had loomed on the near horizon for years. I’d dutifully prepared for it – watched innumerable how-to videos, talked with older friends who’d reached the same situation (and survived), waded through unsolicited voluminous mail offering to help with the transition, completed practice questionnaires, even worked with a consultant to get all the information straight before I submitted my application for society to recognize me as old: I am now on Medicare. I became 65 years old on Friday.

I relish this milestone! There aren’t many once you’re past a certain age; graduations, legal to vote, legal to drink, marriage, children/grandchildren, anniversaries if you’re lucky in love, divorces if you’re not, the Big 5-0, then what?

But I don’t feel old. Does anyone? As you read this, it’s been nearly a week since the transformation. I’m still the same “me” in here, looking out at you through the same eyes, still wiping my occasionally drippy nose, maybe have an extra glitch in my getalong. And I still carry an early lesson about this game of life.

In fifth grade, I loved the thrill of a gritty playground dodge ball game. On one memorable day, as my teammates disappeared by being knocked out of the game and relegated to “prison,” something different happened. I kept dodging and jumping, managing to toss the ball over enemy lines to them. But No One Was Coming Back.

I watched as my teammate caught that last ball I’d heaved, held it close, looked at me running to and fro – and slowly bent down to roll the ball back to our opponents – he simply did not want to play. He’d rather sit this one out, thanks. Admit defeat, heck enable defeat! And be a Loser.

That simple concept stayed with me: Not everyone wants to play. It kept popping up in my life and career – when ideas were shot down, coworkers didn’t come through, projects failed. I may have been on the wrong team, or they were. Now, years later, I realize there are many games to be played and not all of them require a win.

But I digress. I am thrilled to reach 65! I’ve earned this milestone, these benefits I’ve paid into for decades. I’ll take care of myself, soak up my family and friends, continue to love and be loved and find new teammates who want to play this game of life with me. After all, we don’t grow up, we just get bigger – and older. If we’re lucky.

Wright-McIntosh lives in Shelter Bay.