Growing Old
What is it to grow old?
Is it to lose the glory of the form,
The lustre of the eye?
Is it for beauty to forgo her wreath?
—Yes, but not this alone.
Is it to feel our strength—
Not our bloom only, but our strength—decay?
Is it to feel each limb
Grow stiffer, every function less exact,
Each nerve more loosely strung?
Yes, this, and more; but not
Ah, ’tis not what in youth we dreamed ’twould be!
’Tis not to have our life
Mellowed and softened as with sunset glow,
A golden day’s decline.
’Tis not to see the world
As from a height, with rapt prophetic eyes,
And heart profoundly stirred;
And weep, and feel the fullness of the past,
The years that are no more.
It is to spend long days
And not once feel that we were ever young;
It is to add, immured
In the hot prison of the present, month
To month with weary pain.
It is to suffer this,
And feel but half, and feebly, what we feel.
Deep in our hidden heart
Festers the dull remembrance of a change,
But no emotion—none.
It is—last stage of all—
When we are frozen up within, and quite
The phantom of ourselves,
To hear the world applaud the hollow ghost
Which blamed the living man.
* There’s even a word for a fear of growing old: "gerascophobia." In one of his less famous poems, the Victorian poet and critic Matthew Arnold (1822-88) wondered what it means to grow old.
Dealing with changes and pain from aging presents new, unpleasant challenges. We must adjust our lives to survive what we all are going to experience As age affects our minds and bodies, we take measures to deal with fate. Finally, realizing that we will never recover 100% of our younger selves, we make some pretty drastic adjustments that limit both our activities and our own afflictions. Without hope and faith, learning to live with pain is damn near impossible. Many have never experienced the ravages of old age, and other simply rely on doctors who prescribe loads of medications and medical procedures to help their bodies recover.
These meds and procedures, themselves, take a toll on us. We usually become weaker and more confused with the advent of old age. Adjustment periods of healing and dealing with our aging bodies vary greatly; however, all of us, sooner or later, find our healthy condition compromised by the processes of putting up with pain and permanent changes. From simply using old age devices like canes to going through complicated surgeries like heart and vascular disorders, we must face our challenges with hope and faith in the Almighty. I strongly believe that.
To me, the limitations presented to our mind's numerous strengths are the roughest pains to endure. I'm not denying the tremendous pain some of us go through in surgeries and in diseases, but I'm stressing that dealing with all the mental changes of aging is even harder and thus more permanently painful -- we forget more, we think with less accuracy, we become limited in most actions that control our movement and its relation to our minds. Some say the mind ache of aging is nearly unbearable.
Luckily, a plethora of medical and mental health meds and procedures exist, yet we know we are changing, slowing down, and generally becoming weaker even after taking theses medications and going through the prescribed procedures. It is the knowing that we all soon must face finality that daily relentlessly bruises our minds, bodies, and souls. We begin to slowly accept our limitations and no longer wonder what positive outcomes may occur. Knowing becomes akin to a countdown to the final years filled with added challenges for both our bodies and our minds.
Sometimes I wish I could simply accept "knowing" the tolls of old age on my being, but fighting negative changes is paramount to any kind of recovery -- be it limited at least or miraculous at best. Still, wrapping my mind around what I can not do now and what I used to be able to do effortlessly hurts badly ... to me, it the ultimate pain of aging. I can deal with the physical discomforts that accompany my age, but dealing with the mental toll ... even the acceptance of limitations such as forgetful thinking and being "out of touch" ... are most unbearable. I find myself making excuses for inaction and the pain of knowing worse days are ahead adds certain fears and trepidation to my mental capacities and load my "old brain" with discomfort.
Advice abounds like "take each day at a time," "slow down and smell the roses," "age is just a number," and "you're only as old as you feel," to me, are bullshit, outworn, and tired cliches that simply make excuses for loss of my normality. Yes, I believe we must have positive attitudes to advance and overcome; still, I think the realities presented by aging hurt the worst. Again, we know the truth. Everything is likely to get tougher and more difficult to accept. The future looms as our present withers.
I know what I've become in the last three or four years of my life, and sometimes, it is deeply depressing. Anticipation spreads its unrelenting dark wings around my once active lives, and it adds to fearing worse and worse changes are to come. Please, don't misunderstand the point of this essay. I will face and "soldier on" through any challenges yet to come. I must. And I hope with the graces of God and my family I have a good life yet to come. Still ... I know my limitations go beyond pain to the point of embarrassment and dreaded mental disabilities. That is it: I know. No more wonder or guessing.
I hurt physically from the effects of aging and living an active life ... broken bones, torn muscles, heart procedures, and diabetes all pain and limit me at times, but the "knowing" is, for me, the roughest part of being a senior with now-limited activities. For example, driving, especially at night, is so challenging even with new prescriptions. Also, walking, for me, has slowed down with arthritis and
"The waiting is the hardest part
Every day you see one more card
You take it on faith, you take it to the heart
The waiting is the hardest part"
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