John Hawkins has a piece at PJ Media entitled “The 5 Worst Things About Getting Older.” It caught my eye for obvious reasons, but as with many such articles I started chuckling right at the start on learning that Hawkins is in his 40s.
Ha! You call that “getting older”? Just you wait, young man, just you wait.
Of course I remember turning 40 and thinking it was a big transition. And it is. And of course it’s getting older—every day we all get older, unless the first name is Peter and the second name is Pan.
But I never really thought of forty as anywhere near getting particularly old. And I suppose that people in their 80s and 90s would think of the age I’ve reached (which will remain specified here, although anyone who follows my blog can kinda figure it out) is not especially old, either. But it’s edging up there even in the objective sense.
My 5 worst things about getting old are somewhat different from Hawkins’, as one might expect. Some are the same, however, and one in particular—loss, which is Hawkins’ #2—looms large. I’ve lost not just parents, but I’ve lost many contemporaries, including some near and dear.
That, I did not expect at this age, and it’s a loss I feel almost constantly. I understand the statistics that dictate this will start to happen and then accelerate until we’ve all shuffled off, not just to Buffalo but off this mortal coil. I get it. But like Edna St. Vincent Millay, I am not resigned, although I know this is the normal way of the universe, as the beautiful poetry of Ecclesiastes reminds me.
Hawkins’ #1 is “physical deterioration.” What do most 40-somethings know of that, compared to several decades later? Well, for me, my forties were actually a very rough time physically, because that was the main decade of my extreme chronic pain from several injuries, and I had great difficulty functioning at all. So now, whatever generalized deterioration I’ve undergone, I’m nevertheless in a lot less pain than I was back then, for which I’m tremendously grateful. But I realize that my particular trajectory was unusual, and I also have no idea what lies ahead for me.
Hawkins #3 is “looking old.” At forty I looked very young, not much different than I had at twenty. I noticed that most people my age looked pretty young, too. I continued to look very young at fifty, and that wasn’t so unusual either. But somewhere along the line—although fortunately how old I look hasn’t caught up with my real age—I started looking considerably older. It may not be so apparent in the carefully-chosen photo for this blog (and that apple comes in handy to hide this and that), but in real life I don’t look twenty anymore. I probably don’t even look fifty anymore. However, I’m not too upset about that aspect of things, for whatever reason, although I completely understand people who are.
Number four for Hawkins is “Achieving your dreams and NOT achieving your dreams.” Hmmm. That’s a hard one for me. The biggest dreams I achieved are having a child (I had some fertility problems, so it wasn’t all that easy) and becoming a writer. But there are a lot of unfufilled ones that may never be achieved, and I still struggle with that. One of them involves the end of my marriage, which I never wanted to happen but which unfortunately was absolutely necessary. So that 50th wedding anniversary ain’t gonna happen.
Number 5, “dwindling excitement,” I don’t quite see as that big a deal (I can’t get all the excited about it), although I acknowledge it as a general trend. But I can still get pretty darn excited about some random things, such as seeing my son (who lives far away) or going to a favorite play or ballet (something that happens less often these days), or viewing some wonderful sight of nature or art. And I’m pretty sure I’d be mega-excited if I ever became a grandparent.
So maybe my list isn’t all that different from that of the 40-something Hawkins, except for that #5. Instead of “dwindling excitement” I might say something like “the shadow of the valley of the shadow of death,” although I don’t want to be too morbid. But how can one avoid the realization that, although none of us knows how long we have left, the older we are the more we know that the number of remaining days is diminishing?
I mentioned Ecclesiastes here. So I think I’ll close with a passage from it:
Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.
What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under the sun?
One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever.
The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose.
The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth again according to his circuits.
All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again.
All things are full of labour; man cannot utter it: the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing.
The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.
Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new? it hath been already of old time, which was before us.
There is no remembrance of former things; neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall come after.
I the Preacher was king over Israel in Jerusalem.
And I gave my heart to seek and search out by wisdom concerning all things that are done under heaven: this sore travail hath God given to the sons of man to be exercised therewith.
I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.
That which is crooked cannot be made straight: and that which is wanting cannot be numbered.
I communed with mine own heart, saying, Lo, I am come to great estate, and have gotten more wisdom than all they that have been before me in Jerusalem: yea, my heart had great experience of wisdom and knowledge.
And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly: I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit.
For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.