The Emotional Side of Aging

Photo by Anika Huizinga on Unsplash

Today I was driving near City College and a few young girls passed me on their morning jog. Not together. They came one after the other. It was one of the rare times that reality sort of grabs my attention, reminds me of yesteryear, and I feel a deep sense of loss as it goes sashaying by. It hit me how these young people have so much opportunity ahead of them, so many choices that they can make, so many different directions they can take. And I felt excited. For them.

But it is a melancholy day when you realize that most of your major life decisions have already been made. You have already had your chance to choose a career, the size of your family, the man/woman of your dreams, the place to call home, you’ve rounded third, you know, not much to do now but slide.

Now, this is just an observation, and nothing more.

This is not a letter of regret, confessions to my past loves, or anything of the sort. I realize that life is not over and there is still plenty to do and choices to make. But they’re just not the BIG ones. And there are times I’d welcome a do-over on the BIG ones.

I know a lot of times people look back and many of them say, “I wouldn’t change a thing” — I wonder how true this statement is. I wouldn’t have it any other way either as far as the friends I’ve made, the family that I have, and the daughter that has blessed my life like no other.

And yet, there are so many things I would’ve done differently.

If I’d only thought things through a bit more. If I would’ve known that so much depended on the decisions I would make. If I’d really taken this “life” thing seriously. Especially that old saying “life is short” or “in the end, it’s the blink of an eye.” I wonder where life would have taken me if I would’ve planned more as opposed to living the more free-spirited, “there are no mistakes” mantra. Could that even possibly be true? That there are no mistakes? If you want to feel comfortable in all of your choices, you can subscribe to that school of spiritual thought, that we really don’t have a whole lot of control over our destiny and that we are all exactly where we’re supposed to be in this very moment and all the others.

So then, this is it. Everything is exactly as it should be. Well, okay, things aren’t too bad, actually, they’re pretty good. It’s just that it would’ve been nice to have been consulted about my own divine plan.

Some Idle Wednesday

"Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blind side you at 4 PM on some idle Tuesday."

True, Mary Schmich, true. Those are lines taken from her hypothetical commencement speech, Wear Sunscreen, that was published in the Chicago Tribune in June, 1997.

It wasn't a Tuesday, but close. It was Wednesday. The chest x-ray showed a large mass in his chest. I watched as his face whitened and disappeared into some underground foxhole, as the doctor calmly explained the different types of cancer it might be, the different treatments that might be applied, and explaining that now he needed to go get additional ultrasounds, blood work and CT guided biopsies. I was trying to be his ears and eyes, because I knew this was skimming his surface. But I couldn't hear all that was being said very well either. There was a loud pounding sound making it hard to hear. I think it was both of our hearts.

Blindsided - yes and no. You know these things are coming. One day. Or another. You know it happens every day to so many people. Just not you. Or the people you love. And all of a sudden, life as you know it, is no longer anything that you've ever known. All the plans you've had get shaken out in front of you, like that party game, Total Recall, trying to remember what all was there. You frantically grab for maybe a couple of the really important pieces, because now you just know, there might not be time to get to it all. To make the plans a reality. Afraid to go forward, to see what might be up ahead, you start working backwards. In little baby steps. Looking and stepping back on wasted years, wasted relationships, wasted careers, wasted time. And it's hard not to go there, but you do know that this negative thinking will get you nowhere! Right? Yes, yes, refocus, pull it all in. Gather your courage. Soldier on. I'm mean, really, it's just life, right? Those words ring loudly now in my head. How many times have I heard that? How many times have I said that? It's just life. Like it's no big deal. But oh my, it is such a big deal.

Life - I read that without an end, life really wouldn't have any meaning. that if our lives went on forever our choices would be without ramifications, utterly without meaning; life without death would be meaningless.

So I lie next to him, in his restless sleep, and I close my eyes, clasp my hands together and go to that place where I go when there's nowhere else to go - sending out my thoughts, concerns and requests to hopefully, a God that is listening. And as I send my wimpy, apologetic airmail to the heavens, "Yes, I know, I only come here when I'm desperate, I'm sorry. But what am I supposed to think? Why would you grant me any favors? One out of three deal with this, and with all the mountains of suffering in the world, why would I be special?" I'm not. But I will try anyway to use all of my bargaining powers, this for that. A fair trade.

Then once I am sure he is in a deep sleep, I quietly sob. I know sobbing is usually a noisy affair, but I do it very quietly, under the covers, holding it in, while my body does a few convulsions rivaling that of some Russian contortionist. And then I compose myself, give God the benefit of the doubt, and hope that I might have caught him in a moment of weakness.