weekly blog--one for the ages
With a full leg brace limiting where I can go and what I can do, I spend a considerable part of the day sitting on my couch in the family room. That gives me plenty of time to read, work on the computer and stare out the window. The window overlooks the park across the street where the tree leaves, with their golden yellow and orange colors, have hit their fall peak.
The New Yorker magazine recently featured an article on why we can’t tell the truth about aging. The author surmised that a contented old age probably depends on what we were like before we became old. Vain, self-centered people will likely find aging less tolerable than those who seek meaning in life by helping others. And those fortunate enough to have lived a full and productive life may exit without undue regret.
But with aging comes restrictions. Many older men have to pee right after they pee, and many older women pee whenever they sneeze. Life doesn’t necessarily get worse after reaching age 65, but you know something is missing. Perhaps the comedian Rodney Dangerfield, who died a month short of his eighty-third birthday, said it best: “I’m at the age where food has taken the place of sex in my life. In fact, I’ve just had a mirror put over my kitchen table.”