I like old people. Especially the cranky ones. Not the sixty-something retired's that think the world owes them something for making the world what it is today (not that that's much to brag about) but the seventy and eighty year olds who are cranky because they're tired of pretending to care about what people think of them. (I know many sixty-something's who are wonderful people and I love them, too, but you know what I mean.)

I love how old people say what they want to say without worrying if it's politically correct or offensive, and how they don't get in trouble for it. I love the white-haired, wrinkled, fragile spitfires who love to laugh because they've figured out the only thing that really matters in life is being happy with who you are, where you are, in every moment. I love when they don't mind when they get called old, but actually seem a little bit proud of the title.

I love the look old people get when they're tired of talking, tired of laughing, tired of living. How they gaze off into the distance, remembering, re-living, and looking forward to the next step, the next level of their existence to whisper them away.When they get that look, I want to know all the secrets they've learned, the ones that people can't tell but have to learn from living life. The secrets about the wisdom that only comes from years and years of happiness and laughter and pain and heartache.

One of my favorite sights is of an old, wrinkled man holding a new-born baby as they stare into each others eyes, whispering those secrets that only those fresh from heaven or near to returning can know.

I hear people complaining about their wrinkles and weak knees and discuss their failing bowels. I watch Hollywood stretch and scar their signs of age away, and I understand the desire to remain youthful and energetic, but I hope that I never succumb to the vanity that robs my age of the wisdom of living. I hope that I can see my face wrinkle, watch my body sag, and be able to smile as my eyes fill with memories of a life well-lived and a mind sharpened by the wisdom of years.