Left Behind

*Originally posted on 2.22.2018 on a different blog site.

Okay, this is a hard post to write and one that I have been putting off for some time now.  It's also one that is really just for me.  It's just me trying to make sense of the world and all things inevitable.  

Warning: whining ahead.

The thing is, I just don't like this getting older stuff.  It laughs at me all the time and says mean things like, "Ha! there she is!  The old lady!" And then I see me.  I'm hunched over, walking very cautiously, carrying my cane or pushing my walker, not able to hear well, not able to see well, not able to think well.  I'm living on the fringe of life and I'm certain that the younger me could not have imagined that anyone would want this life . I don't want this life.  But I don't get to choose that.  (Correction:  I could choose to stop my life but that's a whole other topic.  Let's stick to getting old, for now.)   True, that image I just described does not match the me of this day, of this year.  I don't even want to say how old I am because it bothers me so much  but I am not that old lady that I just described yet.  And, I may never get the chance to be her but she does live now in my imagination.

How do I know I'm aging?  First, I am keenly aware of all the opportunities that I've had to let go of, and of all the losses that I have lived, all the doors that are shut and all the people who are already gone.   And I know that the more years I live, the more people and things I will lose.   I know I am aging because I know that there is more time in my past than there can ever be in my  future.  I know my thoughts will turn more and more to memory and less and less to goals and ambitions.  I know I'm getting older by the reflection that I see in the mirror.  Honestly?  I don't look at that reflection.  I don't want to see that woman, that blotchy skin, those lines around the eyes, the hands that look like an lady's hands,   the crepe paper thighs.  Why would anyone look at that when she can remember shiny eyes, smooth, lightly tanned skin, slender, sturdy legs, and breasts that were laughingly and lovingly referred to as "perky"?  No, thanks.  To look in the mirror is to feel sad about the changes.   I also know I am getting older because I don't have the physical strength, agility, and endurance that I once proudly owned.  In short, I know I am getting older because I know that, even now,  I am less than I ever used to be.

Okay, I can hear you saying, "Wait. Right. There.  Less than?  Less than you ever used to be?  Wait. How about wiser than you used to be?  How about more open, more understanding, more knowledgeable,  more aware than you ever used to be?  Don't you get points for that? "  And, yes, I do get points for that.  I can't forget those things and I know I often do but gaining those insights in and of itself can't negate the hardship inherent in life's losses.  I can do both.  I can both appreciate the ways in which I have expanded and mourn the ways in which I have become less than something I once was.  I guess that's an example of how hard it is to be a human being and hold onto seemingly contradictory notions.  The truth is that I don't really have a choice about the losses.  They are going to come as long as I am alive.  I guess the trick is to see them, give them a little attention now and again, and then move on myself.

 So what's the "left behind" of the title?   That is simply the poignant realization that I can admire and steal hope from those passionate Florida high school students. I can envy the college people who are starting out, who have so many doors left to open.  I can look with fondness and longing at the young couples and the emerging families.   I can see that they are moving into a world that isn't going to be mine.  I had my turn at that part of life and it's done.  I don't get to do that again. I will be pragmatic and say that that's just the way it is, not good, not bad.  But that pragmatic truth can't take away the sadness or the envy that I feel.  Again, I have to recognize opposing truths and live with them.  It can be difficult but certainly it is well established that life is difficult.  There are a million adages about making the most of what life gives you and I can see the value in that.  I also think that you can't sweep the sadness and the loss under the table and call it all good.  I don't know.  What do you think?