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A prose poem reflection on aging. |
I understand now what I didn’t before: I understand why people at times regret aging. It is not fun to find my body not responding the way it always used to – My mind continues to soar at near-warp speed but it tends to leave my body well behind. Movements are slower, reflexes not so good, muscle tone diminishing. Fatigue sets in sooner, and aches and pains come and go whimsically. Activities once taken for granted now become challenging at best or impossible at worst. My concept of how to do things has not diminished but my ability and agility to do them has. Stamina and endurance once never problematic for me now become issues. Friendships become more pivotal and keep the social sphere of my life in tact (more or less). Having a helpmate/lover/friend with whom to share my daily life is a blessing and invaluable. Planning ahead, always touted as the way to do things, is less secure as the future needs to focus on today and perhaps the next day. Beyond that, planning always needs an ‘escape clause’ just in case . . . When young or younger, I never considered that life for me would one day end. I never checked the ages of those listed in the daily obituaries nor compared their ages to my own. I didn’t understand why older folk could become depressed about aging. I do now. Focusing on all the changes that demonstrate one’s aging process can be depressing. It takes awareness, consciousness, and practice to keep smiling and trusting that today (and each new day I have) may well turn out to be among the best ones in my life. May I turn my worries and frowns into a smile. May it be so. |