Lori grinned as she read the text message. “What does it say?” I asked.
She had just read another birthday text message, this one from her nephew, Jackson.
“Happy Medicare Day!”
I couldn’t suppress my laugh.
Lori had been celebrating her 65th birthday. Facebook friends and others had messaged her, wishing her well.
The 65th birthday is still a milestone, like turning 21, although it’s not like it used to be when it was the age marker for retirement.
It does come with benefits; the top five government benefits for seniors over 65 are Social Security benefits, Medicare medical coverage, food assistance, employment, and housing allowance, according to medagap.com
I wasn’t aware or had overlooked some of those benefits, even though my 65th celebration was three years ago.
“Do you mind letting people know you’ve turned 65?” I asked Lori.
I thought of how I used to ask that question years ago as a door-to-door salesman working summers while in college.
“I know I’m not supposed to ask a lady her age, but…” My supervisor had trained me to pose the question like that to avoid offending. Things have changed, and many women are not as sensitive about their age as in years past. Lori is one of them.
Without hesitating, Lori declared, “Absolutely not. I’m glad to be alive at 65.”
A year and a half ago, Lori found she had breast cancer. Even though the diagnosis was early-stage breast cancer, it shook us. And the treatments were no fun. But Lori saw good even in that: the nurses and doctors are kind and compassionate, some becoming lasting friends.
Lori’s smile was contagious; I mirrored her smile with mine.
Earlier that morning, I had decorated the kitchen with posters wishing her a happy birthday. I was hesitant to write, “Coming alive at 65!”
“Should I mention 65?” I thought as I wrote it. I shouldn’t have hesitated.
I admire my wife’s attitude: her gratitude gives rise to gracefulness.
The Old Testament has the beautiful story of Ruth, who followed her mother-in-law, Naomi, back to Bethlehem, where Naomi, because of her tragic circumstances, considered herself forsaken, even refusing to let others call her Naomi. Instead, she insisted they call her “Mara” because, she said, “The Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me.” But by the end of the story, Naomi recognized God’s provision for her and Ruth. The story ends with the women of Bethlehem blessing Naomi, exalting the one (Boaz) who had “redeemed” her and Ruth. “May he sustain (you) in old age?”
I don’t think of Lori or myself as “old,” although our grandkids, and probably my college students, do. The Lord has sustained us as we’ve aged.
Turning 65 can come with benefits the government can’t provide: as long as we remain as grateful as Lori was on her 65th, we will age gracefully. And I might add, to God will be the glory.
Yes, we can come alive at 65.
Or 25, 55, 85, or 105.
When we rest in the hands of a great and mighty God, we have come alive.
Now, that’s a benefit worth claiming.