As a kid, if ever I thought about getting old (like “past 40”), I figured I would “age with grace.” My hair would turn snowy white, but otherwise, I’d remain the same. I would always be “me.” Maybe I’d slow down, but only a little. Age with grace and great hair. It didn’t work out quite as I had expected.

Two things worked out as planned. I’m still “me” and my hair is white. It looks pretty good and at least I have hair. As for the rest of me? I am a bit of a catastrophe. I’ve been falling apart since my teen years, so I wasn’t even 20 when I realized I wasn’t going to be that gracefully aging lady. The cool yet lively grannie would not be me.

Still, I’m feeling pretty good. Maybe the iron infusions worked? Because this is the first time I’ve had enough energy to want to go out and do something that isn’t a doctor appointment. It might not sound like a big deal to you, but to me it’s amazing. I’ve felt exhausted for such a long time I really didn’t think it would ever change.

We old people have a myriad of aches, pains, and complaints. Our problems are real, but we haven’t given up. Actually, I’m not what “giving up” would mean. If you give up, does death come to take you away? Is the dark one lingering at our elbows just waiting for us to say “come and get me”?

It reminds me of the movie “Little Big Man” when Graham Greene, who’d been planning his death, doesn’t die. He says to Dustin Hoffman: “Sometimes the magic works. Sometimes, it doesn’t.” I believe in the possibility of magic, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to count on it.

So here we are. We’ve got aches and pains. Collectively, we’ve got a huge collection of chronic ailments. We have glaucoma, lupus, Parkinson’s and heart conditions. There’s osteo and rheumatoid arthritis and emphysema. Name the disease and one or more of us have it. Some of us have cancer or have had it and may have it again. On top of that, we forget everything within half a minute. I have a short-term memory of about 15 seconds. To counter our complete memory failure, we write everything down. We used to believe we’d remember it later, but now, we know. For 100% sure, we will not remember it even in half an hour much less tomorrow or the day after.

On a positive note, we are alive. By percentage, more people I used to know are not. More family and friends are gone than walk the earth. Luckily, the “core” of my friend group is still with us and so far, none of us has had to move to a senior care facility. Which is good because frankly, I can’t afford anything but a state facility and that is most unappealing.

Be glad you are alive. Complain all you like. Getting old should give us the right to whine, snivel, and complain. That being said, never forget that we never know what’s coming, so enjoy life to the best of your ability. It’s the only life we are sure we’ve got.

My mother never got as old as I am now. Neither did my brother. I think of that often these days, the living and the dead and how, with all the issues I’ve got, I’m here. And somehow, managing to survive the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

Categories: #Health, #Photography, Anecdote, Death and Dying, Getting old, Humor, Life

Tags: #Photography, getting old, Getting on with getting old, humor, Life, Marilyn Armstrong