Daddy muses on aging
A while back, my 4-year said to me, “Daddy, I don’t want you to get old.” Taking the bait, I asked why. He looked at me solemnly and said, “You know what happens when you get old, you die.” Well not exactly words I was dying to hear, (Pardon the pun), not even from an innocent 4-year old, because you see, I am not exactly welcoming the aging process with a grin and wide open arms. In fact, are you?
Despite all the ‘Grow old gracefully’ ‘Embrace the golden years’ adages and catchphrases designed to make me think that life only gets better as I get older, I still do not see aging as something to look forward to (Well unless I am 15 and can’t wait to get my driver’s license). Call me whatever they call people who would rather stay young than grow old gracefully , I’m fine with it. Let’s just say I’m a reluctant ager. Or is that aging-er?
I find it weir that as hard as I try to hold off or slow down Father Time, he seems to come even faster. 2013, I inch another year closer to the big five-0. It wouldn’t change anything but it would take me into a whole new realm, at least mentally. So I am trying to stage if off for as long as I could be it seems to be attracted to me like a magnet. How am I supposed to think like a 50-year old when I can’t and don’t even think like a 40-year old? Maybe I do and just being too hard on myself. And maybe my mom actually got my birth certificate switched.
As I get older, everyday brings a new realization. What’s that pain? Oh, it’s age related. What? You mean it’s not growing pains? What do you mean it’s arthritis? That’s for old people…oh never mind. Oh wow! How my classmates have aged and greyed. Do I look that way to them too? I really hope not.
Sometimes, actually many sometimes, when I’m with a group of people, I mentally do a check to see if I’m the oldest one in the crowd. Oh, David is older than I am. Oh and so is Susan! I am one of the youngest here! What a boost.
I know many of you, especially those who have beaten me to this milestone, would say age is just a number, you are as young as you feel, I am fifty and loving it and all that jazz but to me they are all misleading. I feel and look late thirties early forties but that’s where all similarities end. My body laughs at me and I can hear it saying, “You wish” when I try to make it act like I feel. So there’s goes that theory. Even though you may disagree, we are all to a certain extent reluctant agers. You can look nifty at fifty but why would I love it as opposed to say 30? Actually 30 is a good number. I can love 30.
I volunteer at a nursing home and I love being around the old folks. They are a fun bunch with lots of stories to tell. Some even manage to make ‘growing old’ the new ‘young’. It’s the ‘in’ thing, everyone’s doing it. But then, I’m never one to follow popular trend. I am not ‘follow fashion’ as we would say in the islands.
Who knows, maybe in a few years I’ll be blogging about being nifty at fifty.
Is it too early to go shopping for a red sports car?