Accepting my quirks...finally

I found something else about aging that’s a good thing: I’m confident enough to affirm my strengths and admit my weaknesses. As for those weaknesses, I don’t care what anyone thinks about them anymore! And, by the way, I prefer to call them lifelong quirks. Here are a few:

Yes, I get intimidated by math. So what? I can always hand the dinner check to someone else to figure out or whip out my trusty tip card.

Yes, I have trouble swallowing pills. You wanna’ make something of it?

No, I’m not fond of driving. You can ask me to meet you at the area mall, but don’t expect me to drive into the heart of the city…and like it. I’m especially averse to driving in snow. It terrifies me when there’s an inch or more of new-fallen snow on the ground and, despite ABS brakes, stability control, and an SUV’s handling of slippery roads, I still grip the wheel until my fingers turn white and I dread an impending stop sign or light.

No, I'm not a very good cook. I used to fret over it because I was brought up in an era in which women were supposed to cook and be good at it. My mother made wonderful meals. My grandmother (on the other side) satisfied us with a weekly Friday night Shabbas dinner. Delightfully delicious saturated fat. But now I have a husband who is a good cook and likes it. So why should I sweat over it? For company, we search through a folder of catering menus, although I like to add some home-cooked side dishes. I can handle casseroles and salads.

I've heard and believe that it's never too late to learn something new or change one's outlook. I also believe that the longer one is on this planet the harder it is to do either. So I'm not giving up on improving any of these quirks...even while accepting them. I'm just not getting my hopes up too high.