A Question of Aging
31 July 2014 | Bethel, Maine
Elizabeth
Happy Birthday Jules, wherever you may be. I can't remember how old Dad would be today; I believe it's 92. My mother is out of town and therefore not available as my research/facts/vital statistics department. He was an interesting man, living a full life with many different interests from theatre to veterinary medicine to advertising to scientific patents work. He never stopped believing in himself, his wife or his 4 children. He was a cheerleader for everyone he met. Jules was a survivor, but more than that he was an active participant in life. I have always said that my dad was not the easiest man but was one of the greatest. I still feel that way. His mind was as brilliant as a wave catching the sun at noon but when he died six years ago he was under the siege of dementia. It was a cruel send-off for a man admired for his clarity and ability to sift through complex business issues. We were all sad to say goodbye, naturally. But more than that I was devastated to have lost the ability to talk to him. It has me thinking a lot about aging, and yes, we are getting older. This year is one of those big zero birthdays for me. Do I feel old? I guess most days I'm oblivious to the years ticking off but I certainly feel older than I used to. For example my joints need to be warmed up in the mornings before I can walk down the stairs to start my pot of coffee. Otherwise if you saw me making my way down, you'd think I had wood for legs. My hair is so grey at the roots that I'm shocked to see myself in the mirror. With its decision to become wavy after being straight my ENTIRE life, I hardly know myself anymore and I can assure you I don't know what to do with it. We've visited this topic before, haven't we? And when my camera catches me at an angle looking up at my face I'm mortified. But my mind is sharp and my desire to continue living on a sailboat, seeing as much of the world as we are able to do in the time remaining on our sea-bound journey is as strong as ever. But this issue of aging is a perplexing one. The state of the future is sometimes daunting, the question of whether we'll have ample resources in the event of a major health issue is troubling. If Ed and I can continue to live with as much gusto as Jules did, I won't feel cheated out of anything that life has to offer. And we'll prepare for the future as best we can, trusting that we'll manage with whatever comes our way.
Gusto, gusto, gusto. I'm practicing embracing this concept each morning when I carefully make my way down the stairs to my trusty Mr. Coffeemaker and favorite mug.