Observations Pertaining to Life upon the Observance of my 76th Birthday
I woke up early today, my body still warm from the flannel bed sheets, thoughts forming and reforming in my mind. I heard the whispers, “Today is my birthday. Today I am 76 years old.” Over and over again.
It was surely a strange way to awaken.
I laid there, my body heavy and my mind still a bit fuzzy from sleep, and thought about it for a while. Yes, age is really just a number, just a way to keep track of the amount of times you’ve swung around the sun in your life. It really means no more than the number of pounds you weigh, the number of feet tall you are, the fact that you do or do not like Brussel’s Sprouts or liver and onions. But it does delineate you from others of our species and it does categorize you in certain ways.
I guess, when push comes to shove, I realize that I’m pretty old. I do understand that when I was younger, people of this age were considered quite old. Very old, even. Most of my family actually never attained this lofty pinnacle of age that I now sit on. It’s an attainment of some solemnity I guess; a grand mile marker. I assume no feeling of great attainment though. It’s not an athletic achievement, not a scholastic or mental achievement either. I didn’t memorize the Gettysburg Address or the opening lines to The Twilight Zone, didn’t run the quarter-mile in some memorable time. I just kept breathing and didn’t die.
Simple.
But in the grand theme of things, it makes me pretty happy, all things considered.
I do rue the attending health conditions brought about mainly by attainment of the age. The aches, pains and various other maladies incumbent of most older folks. I’ve received a mainly clear bill of health recently, from my lengthening list of medical doctors. My dermatologist even said I was perfect (and then ruined the sentence by continuing “for a person of my age.”) At least I’m healthy enough from a lot of bad things that might be assailing me now but aren’t. Knock on wood. But the wear-and-tear of the years is noticeable in a number of ways. I joke that you can point to any area of my body (I’m serious) and I’ll tell you a story of how it hurts or why it doesn’t work right any more.
Or how it’s starting doing this or that which it didn’t used to.
Old man aches and pains.
I guess in reality I am thankful for them. They are my earned merit badges, albeit not wholly welcome ones, of the years resting on my frame.
I wonder, sometimes, why I’m still knocking around, eating the good food (though sometimes I don’t taste it as much as I’d like), drinking the good drink (same problems) and breathing the good air. Is there a reason for that? Some master plan I’m not privy to yet? Or is it all “luck of the draw”, Darwin’s theory made manifest. Much, much smarter men than I have pondered the same question and have drawn many and varied answers. Libraries full of them. I try not to dwell too long on questions like that. A lot of better men than I pondered them, derived a lot of theories and now sleep the long sleep under the silent clods of the valley.
I make sure I’m thankful for every day that I’m given and to try to take advantage of them. I may not see as well as I used to but I see well enough. I may not hear as well as I used to but I hear well enough. The same goes for all my other senses. Maybe not as well as before but well enough.
The machine still functions.
I am also thankful for the still remaining friends and relatives that accompany me on my journey upon this green Earth. Too many of us have fallen by the wayside and all that’s left are fading memories and lingering ghosts. And tears – so many tears. I find I now wholeheartedly enjoy just sitting with old friends and playing the “do you remember” game. And the memories that are brought forth on those occasions are still as bright and shining as a spring day in April with a soft sun shining and the flowers waving brightly in the breezes. They’re clearer most days than events of yesterday or last week. I definitely know it’s not so healthy to dwell in the past. It’s much more beneficial to seek out new adventures and new vistas of which to set your sights on and enjoy. But the past still calls often and is not to be denied. We old folks have so MUCH of the past in us!
So, for the foreseeable future, I’ll stand on the bow of my ship of life and watch the rolling waves pass under the keel. And keep a watch out for the promised sunlit cove approaching on the port side just up ahead, the silver dolphins leading the way, the green palms waving in welcome along the sandy beach.
And enjoy the ride.
