"I WANT TO AGE LIKE SEA GLASS"

This past year reminded me of the opening lines in Charles Dickens’ A TALE OF TWO CITIES:  “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness …..”

Early in 2024, I received a tough diagnosis. “You’re in severe heart failure, Val,” my doctor told me. My broken heart sank.

In mid-April I spent a week in Paris with my daughter Alex and granddaughter Maddie. My broken heart lifted.

In June I watched proudly as two grandchildren graduated, Max from the University of New Hampshire and Maddie from Portsmouth High School.

My broken heart soared.

In early summer, Mr. Wonderful’s health deteriorated seriously. My broken heart wept.

In late summer I enjoyed a brief but joyous reunion with my three siblings, all in our 80s — one of whom was recovering from a stroke, another suffering with Parkinson’s Disease, and our eldest, my dear sister, who we lovingly call “The Elder” because she is just that.  My healing heart filled with joy.

In December I traveled to New Jersey to visit son Chris and family. They hosted a Christmas party at which I got to sing along with their “entertainment,” the Salvation Army Brass Band who led us all in carols. The next day we went to New York City with my two handsome grandsons, Miles and Henry. My heart throbbed! 

It’s been a year akin to the EKG that revealed last February’s diagnosis — up, down, up, down, and occasionally sideways. But it’s now 2025, the meds are working, the exercise and diet are paying off, and I’m leaving Dicken’s words behind. 

Instead I’m embracing the poetic words of Bernadette Noll, sent to me by my dear friend Kathy Kavanagh, titled……

I WANT TO AGE LIKE SEA GLASS

I want to age like sea glass. Smoothed by tides, not broken.

I want the currents of life to toss me around, shake me up and

leave me feeling washed clean.

I want my hard edges to soften as the years pass — made not

weak but supple.

I want to ride the waves, go with the flow, feel the impact of the

surging tides rolling in and out.

When I’m thrown against the shore and caught between the rocks and

a hard place, I want to rest there until I can find the strength to

do what is next. Not stuck — just waiting, pondering, feeling

what it feels like to pause.

And when I am ready I will catch a wave and let it carry me along to 

the next place that I’m supposed to be.

I want to be picked up on occasion by an unsuspected soul and

carried along, just for the connection, just for the sake of

appreciation and wonder. And with each encounter, new

possibilities of collaboration are presented and new ideas

are born.

I want to age like sea glass so that when people see the old woman 

I’ll become, they’ll embrace all that I am.

They’ll marvel at my exquisite nature, hold me gently in their

hand and be awed by well-earned patina.

Neither flashy nor dull, just a perfect lustre. And they’ll wonder,

if just for a second, what it is exactly I am made of and how

I got to this very here and now. And we’ll both feel lucky

to be in that perfectly right place at that profoundly right 

time.

I want to age like sea glass. I wanted to enjoy the journey and let

my preciousness be, not in spite of the impacts of life,

but because of them……