First of all, IS there anything funny about aging? Probably. I just can’t think of anything right now.
I can tell you this much—the aches and pains associated with aging are no laugh riot. The weird smells and certain odd little hairs that start growing in the damnedest places don’t warrant a chuckle. There are other issues…balance problems, vision and hearing impairments, the napping which you so LOATHED as a child, but crave past age 55 are all interesting phenomenon, but not funny,
I have an arthritic knee that hurts me every second of the day. I have injuries from a severe car accident 26 years ago that the passage of time has only made worse. I have sclerotic lesions in/on my hippocampus within my brain, I tire more easily, I have balance issues, I I can’t tolerate bright lights., loud noises…even music. I can’t hear as well as I once could, I can no longer drive at night, I can’t drive without glasses during the day and the thought of driving long trips alone scare me . In the past right months I’ve mourned the loss of very close friends. Death knows aging well because from the beginning of time, aging co-opted with death. They sh their boney hands It doesn’t own the rights exclusively. Death takes the young, too. But those of us at a certain age may not obsess over our mortality, but the changes we feel mentally and physically, make it hard not to realize it’s an ever closer eventuality.
As for me, I can’t remember certain things. I’d rather be home and watching TV on a Saturday night And I’ve become extremely confrontational. I’m talking well beyond shouting things like, , “And I would have gotten away with it to if it hadn’t been for your meddling kids!!!”. No, it’s beyond that. In the past six month, I’ve made three people cry……one was a Marine.
With a few exceptions, I didn’t experience any these things as recently as five years ago. But here I am. It’s because I’m older and aging by the second……like you….like that guy oddly griping cucumbers
But as much as life physically hurts every single second of every single day, I wouldn’t go back and I decided this well before the pains caused from my accident. If I had a Fairy Godmother and in a poof of glittery dust and smoke, appeared before me, magic wand in hand and said she’d grant me the ability to go back and relive my youth starting at any age, I’d politely decline. Now, I wouldn’t heditate to ask if she could completely remove certain people from my past, and even if she could, I still wouldn’t go back. What the reason, good, bad or infufferent, I am here.
Despite my whining, this piece was initially written for myniece who tuned 35 in June. Apparently, I celebrated it with her, but I don’t remember it. So, the rest is for Becky .
She’s a college educated woman, married to a man not afraid to be a good husband and father to their six and eight year old children. She says she’s content in life and as far as turning one year older, she says what everyone says about birthdays…..”it’s only a number”.
Well, it is…..and it isn’t. My heart bursts with joy for the 94-year- old (a number) who can still swim six (a number) Olympic pool size lapse everyday , My heart aches for the 71-year-old (a number) to enduring the awful ravages of Alzheimer’s.
When I turned 35, it too was just a number, then fast forward 24 years—it was another number. And it will be for Becky, too.
Aging is a slow process that acts rapidly. Personally, I’m not bouncing off the walls with glee about being 58, but the thought of having to repeat everything that got me here, galls me so that it makes being here worth it.
My life., like my niece’s, has been graced with a certain flaw that ironically, have proven to be rather beneficial. Failure wasn’t always an option….at times, it was a necessity and with each one came new knowledge. I’m not saying I failed on purpose, most of mine came in the form of bad decisions. Entering into bad jobs or relationships perhaps subconsciously knowing I was repeating a cycle. But as I stated, with each failure came new knowledge. With knowledge comes wisdom and wisdom, serves as a doorman for gratitude. And with gratitude comes a better life, whether it’s lived out in a mansion in the Hamptons or in a dilapidated two room hovel in Compton. It’s all about gratitude concerning who you are and what you have…..but not the stuff you have. It’s about your contributions, the good you do….the satisfaction you get from doing something worthwhile. Beyond yourself.
And then you keep quiet about it. Keep it to yourself.
I’ve learned that the hard way. Becky and I have talked about this often. It can be very unfair to proselytize one’s gratitude or happiness, even the ability or willingness to do good. You keep quiet about how much money you have in the bank, or the “perfection” of your marriage, your wonderful, superhuman children, your terrific body, your health, that oh so glorious trip to Bali that’ll take you ten years to pay off. You know, things like that and basically, every other lie on Facebook.
It’s like being in high school…..we’re not all Seniors. Some still have to go through our Sophomore and Junior years to reach that level of education. Everyone has to go through their lives as youngsters and middle agers…..as inevitably, and if we’re lucky to live long enough, as old people.
Becky lost her sister on Vakentine’s Day, 1999. Holly was 19, a Freshman at Baylor. She died in a head on car crash that unfortunately, her fault. The young man she hit, suffer reread severe head trauma and his life will never be the same. This incident continues to leave to families in a state of grief that even after 18 years, ebbs and flows, but the pain is still there.
One minute, Holly was driving back to college after a weekend visiting her cousin at Texas A&M. In a heartbeat, Holly missed a turn, overcompensated and the world changed.
So, I urge you to embrace your present, the right here and now, dear niece, I urge that of everyone. I do that because you’ll go to sleep tonight and wake up 30 years from now. Aging happens that quickly. See? A second has already passed since reading that last sentence. And in this life, there are a very limited number of do-overs, providing you have the awareness to even try to redeem yourself should the situation arise. Some can walk blithely through life unaware of the disruption they’ve caused, the pain they’ve inflicted. But then again, one person’s need for privacy and solo down-time might be deemed as neglect and abandonment by someone else. And let’s take that further —- desth for some (suicide) is the only solution for what’s thought to be an extremely desperate situation. For others, it’s the scariest finsl act they know. Man, life isn’t only short, it’s also extraordinarily confusing.
So, for the self- conciliatory belief that birthdays are only a number well, they are, but it depends entirely on the number. I would never say “it’s only a number” to someone turning 43 (a number) who has Stage 4 (also a number) liver failure. Like your Facebook embellishments, please keep that to yourself.
As for anything being funny about aging? Well, how about this: Three old guys, all hard of hearing, were playing golf one spring afternoon. One says to another, “Windy, isn’t it?” “No,” the second man answers, “it’s Thursday.” The third guy, listening in, pipes up, “So am I! Let’s grab a beer.”