Don Farris: Now that I am old

Time and gravity, those unavoidable robber barons for which there is no defense, have been lying in wait for years and have caught up with me. I have lost much about myself that was valuable and important to me.

The time has come when I can no longer hide my awareness of this in the false safety of fuzzy thinking. Its reality is no longer distant thunder. The harsh lightning strikes are not close. They are direct hits. All of them.

I don’t see or hear as well as I once did. I don’t have the strength or stamina or feel is good as I did before. My muscle tone has faded and my waistline has expanded. My hair has lost its color and texture. Much of it has been lost. My clothes don’t fit as well, and the opposite sex has quit noticing me. If I fall, I may not be able to get up, even though not injured.

However, I have made new discoveries that are more valuable, more important and more satisfying than what I have lost.

None of the losses matter as much as they would have a few years ago, nor as much as I thought they would. When we age much of our wants and expectations just change by themselves.

You may say, “That stuff won’t happen to me.” Yes, it will. Just as nobody gets out of this world alive, nobody gets older without aging. Even though it’s not OK, it is still all right. Because your candle flickers, it doesn’t mean it’s going out.

Troubling stuff, but consider this. My afternoon is not ruined if I can’t stop to ride the swings or go down the slide when I drive by a park. Or if I’m not allowed to climb trees. It is no longer a disappointment if the party breaks up before 3 a.m.. Nor is the weekend of bust, if I get home before 4 a.m. on Saturday night. I don’t need a large dessert for dinner to be enjoyable. A chocolate Easter egg tastes good even though I know the Easter Bunny didn’t bring it. I can enjoy Christmas without a visit to Santa Claus.

There were times when these were significant losses or frustrations. Everyone who has preceded me has experienced these changes, and all those who follow will. It is all very manageable. If they can handle it, so can I. Besides, what’s the alternative? We make our own alternatives, anyway.

Now that I am old, life is more mellow. I don’t need to pursue the things I once did with the desperate intensity of youth. There is nothing to demonstrate or prove. I have made my mark. Now I can sit back, coast and enjoy what is. The sun is still shining. It is simply a matter of stepping out of the shadow. It always has been.

I am more forgiving and accepting of others and myself. I have a more comprehensive view of where I have been, where I am, and where I need to go. I now see many of the phantoms that I chased for so long as desperate imperatives, as the illusory druthers that many of them are. Needs are now more easily distinguished from wants.

People are more helpful, understanding, accepting and supportive than they were before. Older people are more appreciative of each other. When they ask how you are it is a sincere expression of concern, not a social ritual. Prior vanity-driven competitiveness is now an irrelevant and unnecessary burden happily left in the past. People are now more concerned with the company you offer than with the possessions you display.

How I act today has become more important than what I achieved yesterday. What I have lost has become less important than what I have, and what I have has become more enjoyable. Friendships have become richer and love deeper.

It’s really not so bad.

This story was originally published October 2, 2015 at 10:26 AM with the headline "Don Farris: Now that I am old."