Chapter 1: The Joy of Being the Oldest

In recent times, I've found myself frequently being the eldest member of any group I join. For the past six years, I've embraced retirement and settled in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico.

Not long ago, a young man reached out to me on an online karaoke platform I frequent. He remarked, "You’re an old lady, but it's fantastic that you still sing." I chose to interpret this as a compliment, responding with gratitude for his kind words and expressing my love for singing. He seemed quite pleased to receive a reply.

Aging is an interesting experience; often, you don’t feel as old as your age suggests. I still enjoy many trends in music and fashion favored by younger generations. At sixty-two, I remain quite active. However, my persistent back pain serves as a reminder of my age. I've battled significant arthritis in my lower back for over a decade, but aside from that, my health is relatively good.

A few months back, I participated in a singing competition at a local restaurant, where most contestants were in their twenties. As a retired American in my sixties, I faced a language barrier, but some kind individuals offered to translate for me. The organizers were generally welcoming, though the younger competitors seemed uncertain about how to engage with me.

During the initial round, I received positive feedback from the judges regarding my performance, which allowed me to progress to the next stage. However, by the second round, the critiques were slightly more stringent. In the final round, the judges expressed that the key I chose was too low for the song. I felt this was a misunderstanding; I sang in a key that suited my voice best. Their feedback seemed more like an excuse to eliminate me, likely hoping for a younger Mexican contestant to win. At that point, I opted to withdraw, even if invited back.

For nearly three years, I rented space in an art gallery owned by a talented artist in his thirties. His friends, typically in their twenties, would often stop by to chat. My limited Spanish made it challenging to participate fully in their conversations. Nevertheless, many older Americans who visited the gallery were eager to discuss my retirement experience in Mexico.

For the past year, I’ve been taking drumming lessons from a skilled professional who has guided me through playing the drum kit, cajon, and bongos. My instructor has also started a weekly drumming group that meets in the park, which serves as both practice for us and a performance for passersby. Occasionally, onlookers stop to listen or capture our moment. I often find myself as the oldest participant, with my teacher in his forties and most drummers in their twenties.

I take pride in my age because of everything I’ve accomplished. I have no interest in cosmetic surgeries to appear younger; I want my experiences to be believed. As a child, I took piano lessons and played in both band and orchestra. I hold three college degrees and spent twenty-five years as a college professor. Additionally, I have pursued art and painting lessons for four years and have bought and sold numerous homes. Now, enjoying my retirement in Mexico for over six years, I reflect on my journey.

If I appeared to be about forty-five, who would truly believe all that I have achieved?

My passion for learning remains strong. I’ve been studying Spanish intermittently for the last six years. When I first moved to Mexico, I anticipated becoming fluent within six months. Yet, nearly everyone I encounter speaks to me in English. Research supports that learning a foreign language can be challenging for seniors, but it isn’t impossible. I aspire to reach a level where I can engage in regular conversations with locals; it’s never too late to acquire a new language.

Coming from a family known for longevity, I expect to have plenty of time ahead of me. As long as I can, I aim to stay active and engaged in my community, which often means being the oldest person in various groups.

I hope others view me as someone worthy of appreciation and respect. I refuse to be the type of elder who laments "young people today."

Please remind me if I ever utter the phrase, "Well, back in my day..." because today is indeed my day! This moment, this month, this year—it's all mine! I intend to seize every day I have left.

And yes, I’m perfectly fine with being the oldest one in the room.

Chapter 2: The Future is Bright

Section 2.1: Connecting Through Music

Exploring the connections made through music and community engagement...

Subsection 2.1.1: A Melodic Journey