In this culture, your importance is often determined by how many years of buying potential you have. Movies, music, TV shows are not aimed at people over 50.  Your life is expected to be circumscribed by pills, doctors visits, tests, downsizing, Social Security and pensions, nursing homes, assisted care and gated communities.

We believe we can thwart life and keep people alive forever. The only problem is that they must be imprisoned in a dwindling circle of expectations. Little is asked of older people, even less expected. I do not accept senior discounts. I don’t need them, and I always suggest the discounts go to younger people with kids, as they are hurting more than anyone. I reject these ideas about aging, which I see as a time for growth and change, and an opportunity to finally learn from the many stupid things I’ve done in my life.

This is why I love Frieda, monster that she can sometimes be. We both had a Second Chance. And we took it. When Maria found Frieda, she had been in an SPCA crate for eight months and perhaps didn’t have all that much time left. When Frieda found me, I was reeling from a divorce and spectacular crack-up on a remote farm in New York State. I told my therapist that I expected I only had a couple of years to live, and just wanted to write a book or two before I went. Her eyebrows went up and she told me I had lost perspective. Oh, I said to myself. That’s right. Duh. And she ws right.

I got a Second Chance. Maria and I found each other. I got help and took it. Frieda did two, and we ended up taking our Second Chances together, which is why I am writing a book about this resilient Old Girl. She had her bad times, and now she is having good times. I believe in Second Chances. I think we make them sometimes, and I believe when we find them, we ought to take them and ride them like Hell.