I used to dismiss people's concerns about aging, saying something flip like, "You can't do anything about it, so why waste time worrying?" Ah, the smug responses of those who don't understand where someone is coming from because I haven't experienced it yet. When I turned 30, my friends asked how I felt about it and I laughed, assuring them I felt great, age is just a number, blah blah blah. I was pregnant with Ava and the next stage felt exciting with nothing to worry about. At 35 I was asked again if I was concerned, and I genuinely said no. I felt young, happy, settled and hopeful.
I turned 37 in December, and for the first time I began to think about aging. I looked down at my hands one day and realized they were looking old and lined where they hadn't before. I'd drive around town, see a senior shuffling along the sidewalk with a cane, and my throat would constrict a bit at the idea that I would be there someday, and that day was coming much sooner than I'd like. When I tell that to friends, they laugh, reminding me that 37 is hardly 75, but I whip out my calculator (I'm horrid at mental math) and inform them that I'm halfway there.
I never thought much about death before this year, but it seems to cross my mind more now than I would care to admit. And it's not just death, it's fear of my body failing me, letting me down and betraying me. Being young truly doesn't last forever. On the good days, I'm aware of the benefits of aging, like knowing myself, having confidence, accomplishing things in my life that I am deeply proud of. I also know somewhere in my mind that aging gracefully is beautiful, and that there is no alternative to getting older. It's happening to everyone at exactly the same rate, and there is some comfort in that.
But then there are the bad days, when I'm outright terrified of becoming old and looking back at my life instead of forward. I think I began to worry about this at 37 because I am so damn satisfied with my life. I love the age of my kids - almost 7 and almost 4 - my relationship with Jason, our friends, our town, our life. I want to freeze frame all of it, encase it in amber, hold on tight and somehow prevent this wonderful stage from passing into history. It's not possible to stay here in this good place. Tomorrow will become another tomorrow, which will turn into a year from now and I'll be looking back, saying, "Remember when?" It hurts to realize this truth, but there is no escaping it. The kids are growing up, and we are all moving forward. A woman I know once told me that every stage her kids are currently at is her favourite stage. I love this and vow to look at my kids this way; not pining for what is gone but enjoying them as they are in the current moment.
We saw Avatar this weekend and one line went deep into my soul and provided a sweet comfort as I wrestle with the issue of aging. One of the characters said, "All energy is borrowed and must be returned someday." Life does not belong to me. I believe it belongs to God; I see myself in the palm of His hand. In the same way, my kids do not belong to me. They are God's, and someday all that we are must be returned. What we are guaranteed is this moment, to engage all of our senses, to be fully alive, and to create memories that will live on beyond us.
Beautifully written. I too have thought about this a lot lately (and I am 10 years younger) but as body is aging faster than most I guess its bound to happen sooner?. In a sort of ironic way, God has given me a lot of peace in knowing that every day is a gift. We are not guaranteed tomorrow (if that be life or beauty or mobility). We never know what will happen but you are right...God has us in his hands. As we discussed Friday, that does not mean it will be all great and nothing bad will happen, but it does mean that God is still God irregardless and for some reason that gives me peace. Unexplainable but true.
ReplyDeleteAs I have watched my Grandpa fail in the past week I have come to realize the various stages of life differently (even though I've worked with the elderly for most of my career). When my MIL died she was young (57) and she declined through out a year. It was painful to watch but we had time with her before the cancer went in her brain. Her death still saddens me in a way that I can't describe.
ReplyDeleteMy Grandpa has always been old, he's always been a Grandpa. To see this little, frail old man laying in a hospital bed attached to an IV and crying as he hugs me and tells me he loves me makes death seem that more real to me and makes me wonder how my body will age and how I will die. I don't like thinking about such things and yet I hope that I will grow old and be able to see my grandchildren and great granchildren and tell them that I love them.
Aging seems so foreign to us because death seems so final. I'm grateful that I know that aging and then death are just the beginning of a wonderful life and in a strange way I am looking forward to that, just not too soon!
I believe that aging is a way of making us aware that true joy and true life are not meant to be lived on this earth. We are meant for something much greater than that!
Thank you, ladies, for sharing your thoughts and feelings. Much appreciated. It's a deep topic, not an easy one to wrestle with, but important and beautiful to reflect on, offering a fresh appreciation for each and every day of life we are given.
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