40
It's three years away. I don't know why but it's been a little niggling worry in the back of my mind. For a long time now, at least a decade, I've not really cared that much about my age. I've been saying, "I'm a day older than I was yesterday." But for some reason, that 40 number looming in the far distance is putting a little pit in my stomach.
The signs of our aging are hard to avoid. There are aches and pains in our joints. It takes a little longer to run that mile or get around the base path. That injury takes longer to heal than it did when we were 20.
I mean ultimately, we all know what it is about aging that bothers us. It's our mortality. The end of our conscious existence. We hate to contemplate it. Our consciousness of our mortality, rare if not unique among animals, causes us fear.
And as we age we see the signs of mortality around us. We fight it where we can. When our hair thins we try to hide it. When our jowls , bellies, butts, and breasts begin to sag we change our diets, go to the gym, work out, or see a doctor to nip and tuck.
Other things we can't do anything about. Our parents age before our eyes. Dad can't throw the ball with you the way he used to. Mom gets tired sight seeing around the city quicker than before.
For a couple of years now I've been talking with my father about retirement and how to manage his money. Should he take social security now or should he wait. Can he keep working? Can he afford not to? Well, he's tired and it is hard for him to stay on his feet all day anymore. If he can't work and can't afford day to day expenses what kind of position am I in to help?
And they get sick.
My team lead - my friend, George, is 40 now. In the past two months he's gotten married but he's also taken a lot of personal time off with his father in the hospital with a brain tumor that has resulted in a couple surgeries. He wasn't in the office this morning and we were told not to expect him today. I got back from lunch and he was at his desk. This morning he had to rush his mother to the hospital. She's under going tests now and George won't be in tomorrow morning. Tomorrow afternoon?
And as our parents age we fear their loss and they drag us along with them.
It's 3 years away but I feel that little pit in my belly.
The signs of our aging are hard to avoid. There are aches and pains in our joints. It takes a little longer to run that mile or get around the base path. That injury takes longer to heal than it did when we were 20.
I mean ultimately, we all know what it is about aging that bothers us. It's our mortality. The end of our conscious existence. We hate to contemplate it. Our consciousness of our mortality, rare if not unique among animals, causes us fear.
And as we age we see the signs of mortality around us. We fight it where we can. When our hair thins we try to hide it. When our jowls , bellies, butts, and breasts begin to sag we change our diets, go to the gym, work out, or see a doctor to nip and tuck.
Other things we can't do anything about. Our parents age before our eyes. Dad can't throw the ball with you the way he used to. Mom gets tired sight seeing around the city quicker than before.
For a couple of years now I've been talking with my father about retirement and how to manage his money. Should he take social security now or should he wait. Can he keep working? Can he afford not to? Well, he's tired and it is hard for him to stay on his feet all day anymore. If he can't work and can't afford day to day expenses what kind of position am I in to help?
And they get sick.
My team lead - my friend, George, is 40 now. In the past two months he's gotten married but he's also taken a lot of personal time off with his father in the hospital with a brain tumor that has resulted in a couple surgeries. He wasn't in the office this morning and we were told not to expect him today. I got back from lunch and he was at his desk. This morning he had to rush his mother to the hospital. She's under going tests now and George won't be in tomorrow morning. Tomorrow afternoon?
And as our parents age we fear their loss and they drag us along with them.
It's 3 years away but I feel that little pit in my belly.
posted by LP Cards Fan at
3:32 PM
1 Comments:
I understand where you're coming from--and I'm only 35 still. :)
I take heart in my belief that we all live on, even after we die. I believe we just move into a different type of existence.
I don't know what you believe, but believe me, it really brings me comfort to think that.
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