Precious Things
Or How Altersvorsorge Hit Me The First Time
ORIGIN Middle English : from Old French precios, from Latin pretiosus ‘of great value,’ from pretium ‘price.’
I turned 28 two weeks ago. Although it is not even over the famous thirty, it turned out to be a very fancy turning point, indeed, and I felt once again how getting older only makes the world around me and me inside of it better.
I am not sure if it had something to do with the birthday but travelling home from the luxurious hotel he had taken me to by a surprise I suddenly, for the first time in my short colourful life found myself wondering about getting really old. Unexpectedly, I started to notice the banks‘ savings-campaigns around me where ever I went – where are you in twenty years? But what about in forty? Will someone take care of you? Will you be saving up for a seniors‘ home? Will your children put up with you instead? Oh my God – I used to suffer from a serious commitment fobia – will I have children some time?
Equally I have noticed how values around me become clearer all the time – my crazy but absolutely caring family, the warmth of home, the acceptance and tolerance of my environment, being able to respect and love and be behind the ones I love… Surely, I am a girl to whom a million meaningless things carry great value such as my utterly gorgeous Max Mara skirt from this season, which, in addition to its unaffordability, also has sweet stories to tell, but perhaps the change I have come to look for in the world around me has finally happened inside of me…
I have now decided not to be planning my life’s end with 68 nor be booking a bed in a home. For the first time in my life it has occurred to me that perhaps I should consider investing in anything else than only in what is hanging in my wardrobe. Oh my God, I never thought I could be so …Swiss but perhaps taking another look at the insurance options is not the worst idea after all…
Maybe it is rather the fear that has finally caught me – that getting older one day will merely mean being old… So the other day I looked up my pumps and marched to a job interview, practised saying „I have a boyfriend“ out loud so that I wouldn’t get scared to tell it to the others and therewith – started my 28th year where the world with me could only get better.
Even if my handsome brother managed to only leave me just one missed call on my birthday and I bet my precious little sister is going to wear my Max Mara out during the Christmas holidays in Tallinn, I feel I need to be thankful for what I have around me and perhaps if I manage not to forget about it, occasionally declare and invest into it, I will not be alone when I am old. Besides, it‘s not even the famous thirty.
ORIGIN Middle English : from Old French precios, from Latin pretiosus ‘of great value,’ from pretium ‘price.’
I turned 28 two weeks ago. Although it is not even over the famous thirty, it turned out to be a very fancy turning point, indeed, and I felt once again how getting older only makes the world around me and me inside of it better.
I am not sure if it had something to do with the birthday but travelling home from the luxurious hotel he had taken me to by a surprise I suddenly, for the first time in my short colourful life found myself wondering about getting really old. Unexpectedly, I started to notice the banks‘ savings-campaigns around me where ever I went – where are you in twenty years? But what about in forty? Will someone take care of you? Will you be saving up for a seniors‘ home? Will your children put up with you instead? Oh my God – I used to suffer from a serious commitment fobia – will I have children some time?
Equally I have noticed how values around me become clearer all the time – my crazy but absolutely caring family, the warmth of home, the acceptance and tolerance of my environment, being able to respect and love and be behind the ones I love… Surely, I am a girl to whom a million meaningless things carry great value such as my utterly gorgeous Max Mara skirt from this season, which, in addition to its unaffordability, also has sweet stories to tell, but perhaps the change I have come to look for in the world around me has finally happened inside of me…
I have now decided not to be planning my life’s end with 68 nor be booking a bed in a home. For the first time in my life it has occurred to me that perhaps I should consider investing in anything else than only in what is hanging in my wardrobe. Oh my God, I never thought I could be so …Swiss but perhaps taking another look at the insurance options is not the worst idea after all…
Maybe it is rather the fear that has finally caught me – that getting older one day will merely mean being old… So the other day I looked up my pumps and marched to a job interview, practised saying „I have a boyfriend“ out loud so that I wouldn’t get scared to tell it to the others and therewith – started my 28th year where the world with me could only get better.
Even if my handsome brother managed to only leave me just one missed call on my birthday and I bet my precious little sister is going to wear my Max Mara out during the Christmas holidays in Tallinn, I feel I need to be thankful for what I have around me and perhaps if I manage not to forget about it, occasionally declare and invest into it, I will not be alone when I am old. Besides, it‘s not even the famous thirty.
tinkerblond - 16. Nov, 21:46
