“You don’t look that old,” is a response I heard when I mentioned my age in my 40s, 50s, and 60s. I don’t think this experience is a unique one. I suspect most, if not all seniors, can identify with this experience. 

Moreover, this also means that most, if not all seniors, can identify with that moment when you mention your age and no one’s expression so much as twitches with surprise. 

At 71, this is the experience I’m having. I was in a conversation with two folks recently. I mention my age in relation to a situation I was dealing with and rarely has anything I’ve ever said been accepted as true with such calm and trust.

Were I not wedded to honesty in life, I’d be tempted to tell people I’m 95, hoping to hear, “You don’t look that old,” one more time.

The following reality saves the day for me. I am 71 years old, and I am in fairly good shape physically. I know of many in my life who never reached 71, so yes, the cup is half-full. It’s always half-full. Even when you’re living through moments when the half-full part of the cup is hard or impossible to see, it’s still there.

I’m 71. I look it. And I am grateful.