This getting older is NOT for sissies. There are a few good things about it. Like you care less and less what others think about you. You develop a patience you may never have had before. I now drive slower and walk slower and stop to smell the roses literally. I enjoy the simple things more , like a good cup of tea or a beautiful sunset, the smell of banana bread baking , my dogs cold nose when she finds me in the dark and cuddles.
Some of the things I don't like are there are aches and pains where I never even knew I had muscles. I tire easily. I gain weight easily.
I want to embrace getting older and enjoy each new transition of life. I have learned that each stage of life carries with it, it's own unique gifts and unexpected treasures. If you slow down and really pay attention. If you are mindful and present in the moment. If you keep your attitude open and hopeful , it is a tremendous difference. My mother is 78 and has almost all her life been negative and complaining and not hopeful. I have chose to learn how not to grow old like her. Her choices have made her isolated and unhappy. I choose acceptance. I treat myself lovingly most of the time. I also treat others with kindness and compassion.
I have many personality faults but I overlook them mostly and focus on my better qualities.
I care about others and I strive to be kind and say nice things and put out a positive energy force into the world. That's good enough for me and I'm good enough just as I am.
I have been going to the fair since I was about three years old. You do the math. I only go now once about every third year. The fair has a mixture of good and bad memories for me. The good outweigh the bad by a long shot. My kids riding the rides and eating all the fair food and laughing so much are the best memories for me. The bad one is when my son was around 11 years old we were waiting in line to get a corn dog when a ride malfunctioned and went off its rail and three teenagers died not ten feet from where we stood. I quickly covered my sons eyes with my hands , but that memory was burned into my brain forever. I being a mother, felt the pain for those unknown moms that were going to hear that terrible, unspeakable news that night long ago.
Many years later I still enjoy my occasional visit to the fair , but I don't go to the midway part of the fair grounds anymore. I go to the creative arts building and enjoy the photographers exhibitions and the beautiful handmade quilts and various crafts, and I always have to eat two "Fletchers" corn dogs, one nut bar ice cream and one frosty cold root beer before I go. Take my advice and skip the "fried beer" it was disgusting to say the least. (Hubs just had to try it)