Not Quite Ready for Medicare?

This is a momentous week for me.  Just the other day, in the mail, I received a Medicare card with my name on it. Medicare. For those of you (like my children) who think the world of Medicare occupies some remote and distant corner of another planet, I get it. That was me until the mail came. Now I find myself part of that once-distant world. Isn’t Medicare for old people? How can this possibly be? I am NOT old. I’ve never shied away from owning my age, and have no problem with my upcoming 65th birthday. However, I’m not so keen on any possibility for a slippery slope into oldness.

I remember when I used to keep my dad’s Medicare card in my wallet for safe keeping. That card was synonymous with my role as his CEO of all things medical.  I was his health care power of attorney. Doctor’s offices called my phone to confirm appointment times, and my dad’s Medicare benefit statements were sent to my house. My dad’s been gone for 5 years now, and I still get automated calls from his eye doctor reminding him to make an appointment for his annual eye check. I don’t mind; any reminder of my dad is a good one.  Granted, my dad lived into his 90’s, and I’m only almost 65, but reminders of what it means to enter the world of elderly don’t sit too well with me. And to make matters worse, the day after I received my Medicare card, I was checking out of the hardware store and the very friendly elderly cashier asked me if I was a member of the Golden Buckeye Club. I guess I should be happy about any time I can get a 10 percent discount.  

My enrollment into Medicare highlights the conundrum of being 65. On one hand, as I tell my grandchildren, I will never get old. Age is a number, old is a state of mind. I remember my mom, well into her 80’s, tethered to oxygen and barely able to walk; but her mind was open and her heart remained porous. She lived in the world free from close mindedness and stale thought. Her openness and acceptance of all things different and diverse kept her approachable and quite frankly, delightful. She was an expert in living in the power of love. In some ways, she remained young despite the fact that her body became very old and worn.

I feel like the receipt of my Medicare card is a challenge. I realize I need to be an active participant in the journey to be forever lively and spright. Perhaps this is a time to dig into my goals of not only remaining open and accepting in the mind, but also remain strong in how I literally move about the world. I hope that by the age of 90 I can still touch my toes, get up off the floor after playing with little ones, and remain aware of the fact that smiling often is the very best secret to staying young.