Accept it, you’re old

 

"Treat life like a game of sidewalk hopscotch; hop, jump, skip, and have fun doing it." Dr. BLR

 

There will come a time in everyone’s life, if you’re lucky, when you realize that your best days are behind you. For some, it's a positive realization, considering the lifestyle they’ve had since their youth, and they’re grateful just to be alive. 

Growing up, I did my best to stay active and eat well. I never thought about aging because I was living my best life. I read a lot to keep my mind sharp, and I surrounded myself with intelligent people, making sure I wasn’t the smartest one in the room. To say the least, I thought I had prepared myself for my later years. Interestingly, though, as a young to middle-aged person, you never pictured yourself getting old like your parents. However, the day will come when you start to slow down, and doing the simplest things, like getting out of bed, becomes an arduous task, which requires thought and careful planning lest you pull a muscle or throw out your back. 

In my late 30s, I realized my hairline was receding, moving toward the middle of my head and peeling off to the sides. The Bozo the Clown look would be my future appearance, and I had to accept it or take the Michael Jordan route and “Just Do It,” which meant shaving it all off. I knew the initial shock would make some people laugh, but eventually, they’d get used to it, and that turned out to be true. Screw them! I didn’t care.

I kept my muscular build into my mid-40s and believed I would be the exception to the decline of aging. I cut back on running because of side effects from the high blood pressure medication I had to take, which was caused by my supervisor at work stressing me out like crazy. At first, I thought it was hereditary, but the day I felt a pounding in my chest and wanted to punch his lights out, I knew it was something else. 

As the years passed, minor injuries to my knees and shoulders turned into needing multiple surgeries due to torn ligaments, which then required months of physical therapy. At least I could pass the time talking to my therapist about how I used to get hurt when I was younger, and I’d be back on my feet in a few days. Those days were definitely gone. While I was at the facility, I noticed older people also needed therapy, and then it hit me—I'm old…shit!

Accepting the inevitable requires careful preparation so you don’t fall into despair about the next phase of your life. Eventually, we must accept that we have only a limited number of days, roughly 28,000 to 29,000, determined by either seen or unforeseen circumstances. For the record, as of this writing, I am at 22,280. As family members begin to transition and the seats around the dining table are no longer filled, you must accept that you, too, will become just a memory—either fond or painful—in someone’s life.

I refuse to let negative thoughts control my days and nights. I greet each morning that I wake up and go through my rituals to get out of bed. My back constantly causes me pain, and my knees feel like the bones are always rubbing together. I stay positive because many people don't live to my age, so I am definitely grateful. Getting old is a privilege.