Waiting To Die

 

There comes a time in life when your age matches those on the obituaries page. Everything you looked forward to like the first kiss, having sex, getting a career instead of a job, buying a car, buying a house, raising a family, getting a pet, getting married, getting divorced, getting arrested, buying toys, getting a promotion, being fired, growing bald, getting fat, surviving a auto crash, throwing up, diagnosed with a disease, learning to swim, shooting a gun, being caught cheating, burying your parents…and so on is over.

Been there and done that.

You have cooked and tasted all the foods and traveled wherever you wanted. You bought all the shoes and have more tee shirts than fit the closet. You’ve learned how to talk and read and make friends and appreciate art and music. Half of everyone you knew have disappeared and the others are scattered around the world.

You are now at an age when the only thing to look forward to is dying.

As morbid as that sounds, one must be realistic. All those wonderful photos of happy elderly citizens who have lasted this long and are in the ’60 or better’ homes enjoying the last years of life playing games and dancing and eating food prepared by someone else maybe a misnomer.

Those old folk are sitting most of the day, playing a rousing game of cribbage or (if they are ambulatory) a wild game of shuffleboard. Wearing clothing that is 30 years out of style is common. Shoes have gone from stylist to big comfortable clogs to scrap about in. A game of tennis or golf has turned into naptime. Sitting by the pool is under an umbrella talking about times gone by and numbing with drinks until the next pill dosage. Being close to the bathroom is more important than being close to the dance floor.

Old age shows you the limitations of the body. What doesn’t appear as a pain on the outside proves the abuse given the innards takes its toil. Everything that used to be easy becomes strained. Age is not for sissies and some don’t make it.

If illness puts your butt in bed, you may never come out. Once the medical profession gets its hands on you there is no way out. Promises of improving a fading life with pills and potions and bills your time can be extended until the money runs out.

It is just another life. No one gets out of here alive. So why not be real about where you are and where you are going. At any minute a house from Kansas could fall on your head or that scratch that used to heal in a day doesn’t seem to get better.

If the calendar page turns again just means you are another step closer. If it doesn’t, you’ve expired date is up.