I got a letter from the bank the other day that offered me all sorts of concessions on the grounds that I was three years older than I actually am.
In that moment, I saw with the clearest of clear vision that I wanted to hold onto those years, no matter how great the concessions.
I pretty much ran to the bank and asked them to give me back my time. The official with whom I was dealing was about half my age and, while very polite, clearly didn’t see the impact that being robbed of three years has the older one gets.
She asked me if I wanted the letter back and it felt like the time I was asked if I wanted my gallstone to put on the mantlepiece.
Empty handed, yet shed of years, I danced home and vowed to make the very, very most of those precious three years.
Don’t be fooled by the calendar. There are only as many days in the year as you make use of.