Getting Older

I wrote this in response to a friend's post on Facebook today, but instead of posting it there, I decided to put it on my blog instead. So, here goes...

​Getting Older

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

9/1/26

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​I want you to know that I SEE you and I HEAR you. Sometimes we just need to know that people actually do see and hear us, at least I know I do.

​I am 63 years old. In the last five years, my dad, stepmom, and stepdad have all passed away. COVID took numerous friends and family, many younger than me. All of this has made me understand the brevity of life and why we shouldn't waste the time we have left.

​The loss of so many elders also pushed me into their spot in the family hierarchy. I especially felt that shift when my dad passed. Now, my little tribe — my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren — views me as the "elder." I don't know how I feel about that because, in my mind, I'm not OLD! I definitely don't feel like I have grand wisdom to dispense. I just have a running list of things not to do so you don't screw up your own life. That's about it.

​To top it off, I lost my job on Christmas Day last year and have been searching for work ever since. My husband isn't well and hasn't been able to work for five years, so everything falls on me. When my unemployment ran out in April, I started doing side jobs to keep my head above water financially until I could land a new role.

​Then came July 9th. I walked across the kitchen floor to throw away some trash, slipped, and broke the shit out of my ankle. I had surgery to install hardware on July 17th. Then on July 31st, I developed blood clots in both my right lung and my injured leg. I have been non-weight-bearing ever since.

​The mental battle has been the hardest part of all this. I am someone who never sits still, and now I have no choice. My mind runs amok in the silence: "What are you going to do if you don't find a job ASAP?! You're going to lose everything, end up in a wheelchair, homeless on a corner with all the other crazies or stuck in a nursing home!"...ad infinitum. My mind is a bad neighborhood sometimes!

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BUT... then a voice comes from deep inside my spirit. I believe it's my loved ones and ancestors on the other side. They tell me: "Andi, you know all that is bullshit. God has not brought you this far to drop you on your ass! We are all around you, protecting and supporting you. You will get through this. Just be still. Breathe. Rest and heal. God has you. All is well, and everything is working out for your good." ​Those voices ground me and keep a tiny spark of hope alive inside me. 

Not too long ago, I was meditating on faith and feeling like I didn't have any. I thought about the Bible passage that says you only need faith the size of a mustard seed, and I remember thinking, "Geez, I don't even have faith the size of a mustard seed. Mine is more like a speck of dust inside the mustard seed. Surely that's not enough."

​Right behind that thought, I swear I heard God say out loud, "Andi, I can work with that. Stop worrying."

​Yes, there are still days when I feel like I've lived past my expiration date — like the world is flying by and I can't catch up, or that there's nothing left for me to do here. But then I remember the dream God put in my heart and the purpose He still has for me. It might not make sense on paper, but I know what I see is real.

​When I was in my 40s, after both of my kids flew the coop, I was supposed to be building my retirement. Instead, I went back to college. I graduated summa cum laude with a Bachelor’s in Fine Art and an MBA. Not bad for a high school dropout. Go figure.

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Back then, during a photography class, I read about a woman named Edna Bullock. She didn't pick up a camera until her late 60s, and by 70, she was a renowned photographer. Her whole message was to never let age stop you, and I’ve never forgotten it.

​I also think of my grandmother Lillian Tadpole, who lived to be nearly 100. In her 70s, she was vibrant, active, and living life to the fullest. She always told me, "Age is just a number — it’s all in how you think." She kept going strong well into her 90s, and I hope I follow in her footsteps.

​I have my down moments, of course. But at some point, I pick myself up, dust myself off, and start again. I refuse to let a number dictate my story. God planted a dream in my heart, and I know it will come to pass. If He gave me the vision, I can't be too old to fulfill it. And that piece-of-dust faith? I know it’s more than enough, because God takes that little speck and, through His love and power, makes it mighty.

​My point in sharing all of this is simple: as long as you are still breathing on this side of Heaven, you haven't outlived your expiration date. God still has you here for a reason.