Now I'm 64

Will you still feed when when I'm 64 - The Beatles 1967

This post has been a long time coming. I was 64 on 2nd May and this line bounced into my head and I’ve been putting these words together since then

My family, my birthday. View is looking towards Red Wharf Bay, Anglesey Photographed by myself 2nd May 2025

“Will you still feed me when I'm 64?” - this and other lines come from the Beatles' 1967 single which I would sing from the age of six. It came back to me this birthday – now I'm 64

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What fed me when I was thirty four doesn't feed me now. When I was thirty four I had a baby and a toddler. I was fed by other mums who were a step or two in front of me. From those days remains one solid friend; now our conversations are full of the challenges we face with our older children, their lives, their partners, and with our ageing mums.

What fed me literally when I was a single mum was pasta, sauces and cheap veg washed down with glasses of tap water. My daughter would never eat mushrooms back then. Now she tells me of the delights of shiitake, porcini and enoki 'shrooms and brings me Spanish wine which, as she pours, she tells me of its origins.

What fed me friendship-wise over the years has changed. Some due the natural selection of untimely deaths, old age, moving, some because we no longer flowed together openly. Some friends were nourishing, some left me hungry, some were toxic. Now my friendship group is smaller, deeper, more trusting, and fulfilling.

What fed me when I first accepted Jesus no longer hits the mark. Then I needed the fast flowing milk of loud music, constant teachings, full and fast, large and loud. Now I need the well cooked meat of in-depth study, of challenging debate, and places to write about what I learn. What fed me thirty years ago would leave me hungry now.

Once what fed me at the theatre was to act in plays by Bertolt Brecht, perform street theatre, play up in pantomime, and make sure I watched something deep and moving. Now I'm fed by good musicals, tense thrillers, something that will help me shed a tear. Pixar movies are my absolute delight

My appetite for books has changed. Once I was filled by the likes of Victoria Holt, Jean Plaidy, Jilly Cooper, Frederick Forsyth and Dick Francis, with some Clockwork Orange and Catch-22 during my traveling phase. Now I feast on Hilary Mantel, Terry Hayes, Meg Mason, Sarah Perry and emerging authors recommended on Substack.

I am still fed by a good debate and am more confident playing devil's advocate as I age. My tastes still have that left wing slant. I still wanting to turn the world the right way up. Now it can appear that I might lean more biblical than political. Yet, for me, to be nourished well I often enjoy the two intertwined and served together.

I used to fed on things that did not nourish, that often gave me stomach cramps, rushed through with the hope of something better round the corner. I now allow myself to feed more languidly, have time to chew things over, time to read, to converse, to explore. I am more selective with my friendships and savour them much more.

When I was much younger than today I worried about how I would hold on to those things I had so they would feed me when I was 64 I no longer even give a second glance. My tastes have changed. My life has mellowed. My palate now prefers the calmer, richer, more succulent pleasures life has out there.

Now I'm 64 I only feed on what I am confident I enjoy.

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