I’ve been zocheh, baruch Hashem, to marry off all my children, and for the first time in my life, I can sleep late. Although, as my daughter-in-law’s grandmother is wont to say, “Az men kehn, kehn men nisht. When you can (do, buy, have), you don’t!”

Some thoughts on becoming a senior:

Gratitude, gratitude, gratitude. Modeh ani takes on a whole new meaning as I thank Hashem for the new day. I know so many people who have not been granted this stage.

Yadati veni, yadati. (When Yosef questioned why his father crossed his arms when blessing Menasheh and Efraim, Yaakov Avinu answered, “I know, my son, I know.”) With age comes wisdom, and there’s serenity in knowing. While the youth are agitated by life’s truths (How did this happen? Can you believe it?), there’s tranquility that comes with age and knowing that it has all happened before — and it will be okay.

No more PTA meetings. No more sleepless nights because the morah said my son doesn’t color in the lines. (He did a beautiful shidduch in spite of it!)

No more phone calls and thank-you candy platters to all those I called on to help get my son into the preschool (elementary, high school, yeshiva) of choice.

I can eat a peach entirely on my own!

The fear of what is yet to come.

The feeling of being a “has-been.” Colleagues, family members, proprietors are all very respectful, but you can feel their eyeroll.

The comfort of knowing that it really doesn’t matter what you wear, say, or do — no one is looking at me.

The discomfort of knowing that it doesn’t matter what you wear, say, or do, because no one is looking at me.

Life’s frenetic pace has eased, leaving me time to enjoy the “simple” pleasures of a grandchild’s smile, autumn foliage, or a sunset.

Good health and mobility are no longer taken for granted; scarves, gloves, and booties are no longer fashion statements but necessary precautions.

Stairs are still manageable for now, but we wouldn’t consider moving our bedroom upstairs.

My vocabulary has expanded to include words like estate planning, Medicare, IRA, pensions, wills, knee replacement, reflux, and statins.

As I look to the future, I am excited, terrified, and comforted. Excited by the endless possibilities of life before me. Terrified by those very same possibilities. My comfort lies in the confidence and understanding that comes with age: the perfect belief that I am in my Father’s ever-loving Hands.

Because what I have always known now sits firmly in my heart — and that is one of the true gifts of being old.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 971)