How Did I End Up Old?
I once again dozed off in my recliner watching a DVD lecture on TV. I seriously doubted I had enough energy to get from the recliner to the bed, let alone do all the little things needed to be done before I actually sort of flop into my daily version of heaven---the chance to fall asleep in sort of a weary mental haze. With modern gadgets I learn everyday that the world is too much with us, messing with our minds about endless dangers, tragedies, and wonders. Richard Nixon used to say, "Let me make one thing perfectly clear". I can't say for sure that I have ever managed to make a single issue in life perfectly clear.
Life has been full of questions and few answers. Exactly when did I, as some sort of unique mental entity, first function as an independent being? Perhaps it was high on a hillside back in my youth sitting there with my dog Buff and asking my boyhood friend, "what the hell is life all about?" It would hardly be the last time I would ask that question. I guess how fleeting life is came early and often enough---as pets, friends, parents, relatives, lovers, 'guardian angels', antagonists, came and went, one after the other, in an endless stream of separation anxieties. I now feel like the person in a congregation who raised his hand when the preacher asked, "Is there anyone here who can honestly say they have no enemies?" "Please", intoned the preacher, "explain the secret of your success". "Well", replied the person, "I outlived the bastards".
Somehow, that seems a pointless goal. Maybe we don't need that goal, that the most we get is the opportunity, by chance, to participate in a seemingly endless process of evolution, controlled by laws of a force/entity/being called God. His laws run the show, and we are all but bricks among many which comprise a universe beyond our comprehension. "I am" said I, to the world and no one listened. While I live, the world goes on, after I die the world goes on---come to think of it the world went on before I was born too----and progress commences no matter how long any temporary regressions, while new improved species develop, with new wonders to abound---I guess forever---a concept which is of no import to any of us currently alive. We are not a part of forever, just bit players and that is a real annoyance to my ego.
I remember once handing my dad a little tape recording and asking him and my mother to record a history of their life. I thought it was a brilliant idea. He said nothing at first, then when I asked again he simply said, "What for?" That seemed a poor answer but later in a huge cemetery where I was the only one present, I looked at all the tombstones and asked, "What for?". "Here lies ________" and the sad truth is that there is no way I can relate meaningfully to who lies there, even if, per chance, it is a distant relative. It is just a name. Goodbye is forever. I know, some insist there is a heaven. While of course I can't categorically deny it----I mean, I can't even fully explain life here on earth, and that exists----yet there is no logical or reasonable proof of any heaven here-after. Even those who firmly believe they are going to heaven never ever talk about the particulars, and for good reason---how the hell could they? Maybe fear of death is what drives their belief in Heaven. Still, it seems that those with the strongest beliefs in Heaven often wail the loudest at a funeral. When Kennedy was assassinated no TV anchor went on TV with a joyful look to announce that Kennedy was assassinated and now going to Heaven followed by " a one, a two" Lawrence Welk lively polka music and dancers celebrating Kennedy achieving entrance to Heaven. When our favorite player scores a touchdown to win the game, we don't wail, weep, and cry because the game is over, but are so happy it has turned out well. Something amiss in our logic here.
Old means the inevitable hurdle lies not far ahead---one, over which, we cannot hurdle. My own style, most of my life, has been to run through hurdles, not over them----but, this terminal hurdle will be like a tall brick wall. I really can't say, if truth is to prevail here, that there is any good reason why anyone my age lives on. I may, to an admirable degree, manage to stay out of the way of those in their productive and formative years, but that is a courtesy, not a positive input to society. I can't judge whether I have maybe earned a rest before the last storm, but I take it with endless gratitude. I tell Sheebiejiebee the cat all the time that "we have the life of Riley here, made in the shade." Whining about the limitations and weird aches that accompany age is ignorant. I've seen my share of the elderly so what is there to be surprised about? People tend to be very nice to me---sometimes without reason, but like a sponge I lap it up like a pet gulping scraps from the table. There is no need for me to have a funeral, so many have given me flowers while alive, and that is the way it should be. I remember someone once remarked about huge funerals: "give them what they want and they will all come, some just to make sure he/she is really dead".
Maybe I will try to sell my demise to a reality TV show. Those I knew best could amass outside my home and when the bell rings they all have 15 minutes to race in and grab what they want. That would be reality; not some scripted crap. I wonder what would be left? Probably just poor Sheebiejiebee the cat. We spend an inordinate amount of time considering where best to scatter or put our remains. I wonder why we care? My dad would say "What for?". They say there is a little good in all of us, but to hear tell of that we would have to attend our own funeral. People get a chance to say what they want about the deceased, but the deceased ought to have written out something to be said about them in return. As T.O. says, "fair is fair". I never go look in any casket. I just don't want a mental picture of them dead, somehow the memories of them alive seems more appealing to me.
To be honest with you, I am glad I got old. It seems to be the only way to live a long time. But dying at the right time is important too. There definitely is such a thing as living too long. As far as I am concerned some people already have. If you send me your personal portfolio I will evaluate it to see if you have overstayed your welcome. I don't fear dying, I just fear losing control over my own dying process. I think everyone should have total control over their own dying process, either by written medical directives or current sane wishes. I think, by law, everyone should have to write out medical directives every 5 years so that someone else does not have to make decisions for them. Medical science is getting so advanced now that maybe soon they will be able to keep some of your cells functioning forever: "Here lies someone, long since forgotten over the generations, but here they lie and if you press the button the living cells light up and you can watch them function."
When did my life begin? Well, since I don't know of any living cells which did not arise from other living cells, I guess I have a long, long, history. I once was one cell, but that cell arose from other living cells and they arose from other living cells, and all this damn living cells begetting other living cells has been going on for millions of years. On top of that "I" was a different "I'' through every age of life. One time I was living as separate entities---an egg and a sperm. No one would have recognized me back then. I think God arranged for those two living parts of me to get-together but I am less sure about the rest of you. Maybe God falls asleep at the wheel sometimes.
As long as I can keep up my almost daily long walks hither and thither, and am not so demented that original sane thoughts are no longer a possibility, I think I will be ok. I hope I have the good sense to know when enough is enough and pull the plug, even if I have to do it solo. Ideally I would gather a few friends around and say, "Well, this is it. I it has been so good to know you. I am going to turn out the light, the party's over. Thank you for the many kindnesses along the way, exciting experiences, and good times. Now don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out." It sure beats gathering around someone after they have pulled the feeding tube and we watch them starve to death or they take them off a ventilator and we watch them suffocate to death. I know, they are all doped up and in a stupor, but why would we be stupid enough to want to watch a stupored up person suffocate to death? Seems ghoulish to me. Hell, the guillotine was kinder, albeit visually grotesque.
All in all, old age, for me, so far, has been an interesting and contented experience. The pressure is off to be productive, each day is tailored to whatever I choose to do at the moment, and I enjoy diversity enough to find the game from the grandstands a good deal. As I often repeat per my final pitch on life: (Guess who is a child of the 60's?)
"There is a way of life, a way of thinking, of behaving towards other men and your fellow creatures, towards all living things, towards the whole earth and the sky and the sun that is based on love, on compassion, on respect, on cherishing everything there is around you because it is wonderful, unique, it's natural and good and it evolved that way by itself, it's got to be cherished and if we think like that, and live that kind of life, we can all have our freedom, we can all have our happiness, we can all feel the sun and smell the grass and smell the flowers and look upon each other with appreciation." (Unknown)
