Tomorrow is Grandparents Day– for some, a day to gratefully celebrate others (biological elders or not) who have “grandparented” them; for grateful others, to be the ones being celebrated as “grandparents.”
Whichever category you are in, it is good to ponder the title of prolific spiritual writer Joyce Rupp’s latest book, a memoir, which quotes the wisdom of her mother: “Fly while you still have wings.”
“Fly while you still have wings.”
Although no one, at any age, can presume on their wings, those of us in retirement, it seems to me, have a special opportunity—and responsibility—consciously, creatively, constructively, charitably—to use wisely those increasingly vulnerable, fragile wings for as long as they are working.
“Fly while you still have wings.”
Right now, it is not to some exotic tourist site to which I wish to wing. No, while I still have sight, cognitive skills, typing dexterity—and breath!—I am grateful and content to fly inward to visit the places where memories and desires dwell and to find a healthy outlet. To reconcile with myself. To make sense of who I am, where I’ve been, what I have or have not done. Writing is the indulgence and the blessing of where my wings will take me that I now seek.
“Fly while you still have wings.”
Thank you, most sincerely, for flying with me.
What are the wings on which you now fly?
Where do you want them to take you?
