One of the harder parts of getting older is realizing you can’t do things you used to do. This might not sound like a big deal. After all, life requires we let go of stuff we did in college, like sports. Many athletic abilities will typically pass or stop being available. A few things go on longer. Horseback riding, until your back gives out. Swimming can last a lifetime if you have access to a pool.

You don’t realize how many things will pass out of your life because often, you didn’t realize how many things were in your life. We don’t count them when they are all there. We took a lot for granted.

Performing music is one of the things that can become difficult. Pianists develop arthritis in their hands and it can get bad enough to make practicing and performing impossible. Our hands take a lot of abuse. I started playing piano when I was four and began touch-typing when I was ten. Between those two things, my hands were in constant use, pounding on a typewriter and a piano keyboard — with some guitar in between. Then computers.

I was still playing piano a lot when Owen was born, but I had to stop playing when he slept because my big piano — a medium grand Steinway — woke him up. By the time he was old enough to not be napping, I was working full-time. By end of day, there was shopping, dinner, laundry, a family and social life. I gave up all my art projects because toddlers are no respecters of creativity. Who knew it would take another 50 years to revive even part of it?

I was just about to turn 50 when I finally had to give up horses and that hurt. Later, having sold my grand piano — it was too big for any place I lived — and gotten an electronic piano, I started practicing. I surprised myself. A little practice and I could perform most of the pieces I played well plus new ones. I got into Scott Joplin and Chopin Mazurkas. A few months after I began serious practicing, both my hands lit up with a pain so intense it felt like a nail had been driven through them. I shook them out and tried again. That hurt! Heat and ice — ten minutes of each — after which I could practice for as long as 15 minutes. After that, the pain won.

I eventually sold the piano. Keeping it wasn’t doing me any good. I’d given up the only sport — horseback riding — at which I was pretty good (not counting ping-pong), and piano at which I was almost good.

The arthritis wasn’t done with me. The heart problems and the cancer didn’t help either. After a while, walking was difficult. Giving up riding and playing was tough, but walking? I’ve been doing some exercises and they help a little bit, but the back is bad. Since the recent heart surgery, I can’t take the medication that gave me real relief from the pain and I remembered why I was taking it, side effects notwithstanding. But I can’t anymore, not if I want to keep a beating heart.

Is it terrible to have to give up things I loved doing? Yes — and no. I miss horses, but I’d probably have stopped riding by now anyway. Piano? I think I miss the idea of playing more than playing. There were a lot of years where I played very little because the baby was little. Then there was work, family, friends. Music requires practice and there was no time left. In the end, I’m pretty sure I’ve become what I ought to be.

If we are lucky, there is a good niche in our life and we find it. Right profession, right hobby. I don’t think I could give up writing or photography. They are pretty basic.

I’m sure aging — for most of us — means giving up some things we enjoyed. We can do it gracefully, begrudgingly, or with a lot of howling and wailing. I fall into a slot between graceful and begrudging with occasional howls and wails.

Categories: #Photography, Arthritis, Getting old, Humor, Music, senior citizens

Tags: #Photography, change, getting older, humor, Life, Marilyn Armstrong, Music