Having My Say

A Hard Reality… Hit Head On

I remember some years ago, while visiting Mark Twain’s birthplace, I came across this quote:

I am old; I recognize it but I don’t realize it. I wonder if a person ever really ceases to feel young – I mean, for a whole day at a time.

Mark Twain

In my dreams, I am NEVER old. A few posts ago, I told you that I really don’t like looking at myself in a mirror, especially now. I just don’t recognize the person who is staring back at me. For the last umpteen years, I have thought of myself as a 40-year-old hearing person who has limitless energy.

I have to recognize that I’m not forty, but I’m not senile either. I don’t think I am, but since there is really no one around to tell me if I am, maybe I am? Anyway… 🤪

Finally, to get to the main thought for this post, I was recently in my “new” doctor’s office a few weeks ago, and he made the comment

“If you were my father, I would highly recommend that you have this procedure done”.

That statement shocked me! Maybe, since I have no children, it seems I have been living in this imaginary bubble frozen in my middle years. I just never thought of myself as having a near 50-year-old son. When my doctor compared me to his father, it was like being hit with a 2 x 4.

This revelation has set off so many bells in my current life. Maybe I am old? But, do I really want to admit that, even for a day?

6 thoughts on “A Hard Reality… Hit Head On”

  1. Our daughter turns 50 later this year so perhaps I have an advantage over you when it comes to realising the significance of one’s age. I have prosopagnosia so to some extent my face in the mirror has always been something of a stranger that mimics my movements.

    As far as my internal thought go, I don’t think I feel any older than I did in my twenties, although perhaps I’m somewhat wiser. My body is another matter. It actually takes effort to get up from a squat or out of a chair, and if I ever bend down to pick something up, I look around for what else I can do while I’m down there. And then there’s my eyesight. Definitely failing – cataracts forming in both eyes and occasional floaters that suddenly appear, causing me to try and duck or dodge the apparent “object” that suddenly appears right in front of me. I’ll no longer drive at night because it takes too long to recover from the glare of bright headlights.

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  2. When I’m out walking, I always make an effort to acknowledge the people I meet on the bike trail (or wherever) and after that brief encounter I often wonder to myself who did that person see coming toward them? Did they see the young(ish) guy that I feel I am when I’m out there, head up, marching briskly, and hopefully looking alive? Or did they see someone well on his way to geezerhood, in other words the guy I see in the mirror every day. Maybe it’s better not to know.

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  3. My mom and I decided she was older or an elder but not elderly. An elder is cherished and listened to. The elderly needs super care. She told me a week before she passed at 92, she had finally hit elderly. “Glad you recognize that so you are willing to let us help you. But Mom, you are sharp- so you are officially an elderly elder. “ It was a sweet move.
    I “see you” as an elder. You are not elderly! Elders have lots of time to reflect and read…and write.

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    1. Thanks for the kind thoughts, Janette. Your comments lead directly into tomorrow’s post. I won’t give that away but read it tomorrow. I think I am kinda in the middle zone.

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