I was thinking the other day about this growing old thing.
One day, you are just a kid and the next day you, well, aren’t.
I remember high school graduation like it was yesterday, but no, it was 41 years ago.
A mere blip on the cycle of life.
Those days were a lot of fun, but they also contained a lot of angst. We wanted a lot of stuff that we were too young to have. We wanted to put school in the rear-view mirror and overlook the prospects of having to get a job.
We wanted to have our own money, our own place, and make our own rules. We wanted the good life and we wanted it right now.
Well, if there is anything to be said about getting old, I guess it is that I have all that now. I married my high school sweetheart. And, just for good measure, I don’t have acne either.
What I do have, however, is an increasing resistance by my body to respond to certain commands like ‘stand up’ or ‘run’ (like that’s going to happen). I guess you could call that getting old.
I prefer to think of it as outliving my warranty.
There is no such thing as OEM parts for a body. They are all produced by aftermarket manufacturers, so we start to turn into an entity consisting of spare parts.
Time was, if I dropped something, I would simply pick it up. Today, I find myself contemplating whether I really need it anymore.
In my youth, if I fell down, people would just laugh. Today if I fall down, they gasp… except for my grandsons… they seem to enjoy when grandpa falls down.
All a matter of perspective, I guess.
I’m happy to say that my mind seems to run pretty well. Oh, I do forget things, and find a lot of my conversations contain the phrases ‘did I tell you this before’ or ‘now what was I going to say’?
But that’s OK because my wife will reply ‘Huh, what did you say’?
In retrospect, I’ve got to say I’m kind of enjoying this aging thing. I think senility will be a rather smooth transition for me. I’ve noticed that if I’m feeling cranky, people are not surprised. If I ask for the senior discount, I don’t get challenged.
Since I suffer from cellulitis and peripheral neuropathy, I have a handicapped sticker in my car. Have you ever watched someone park in a handicapped space and, when they get out of the car you check them out for external signs of infirmity?
Well, I’ve noticed when I get out of my car, people just nod.
I could probably do without that.
Anyway, it is what it is, I guess.
This is probably going to be as good as it gets.