I woke up this morning another year older, and well on my way to becoming “old.” When I renewed my driver’s license last week, I was shocked by the changes I saw comparing my expiring license with the new. Where once my hair was “greying,” my hair is now generally grey. Fifty shades of it, if you wish to be funny.
I have never thought of myself as being old, and since I work generally with younger people, I sometimes forget that some of them could be my children, if I had started so young. While I see my face every morning as I brush my teeth and comb my hair, I’ll admit that I don’t really take much time to look at it. Somehow the years have snuck up on me. One minute, I am thirty, still young and with a things ahead of me. Now, not so much. For my birthday, my mother sent me a clipping warning of the risks of kidney disease, and my father pressed to be more proactive about planning for my retirement.
So now I find myself trying to figure out how to be, if not old, at least older. I am not sure how to do this. I can kid myself if I want. There are several industries ready to attend to such wishes. I can dye my hair, undergo cosmetic surgery, take age-defying supplements, and of course live it up like I’m still twenty. Hugh Hefner has been doing this for the last twenty years.
Such efforts are wishful thinking however, as with every passing moment, I shall have to try all the harder to be younger. In the end, I’m too lazy for such exertions. The good news is I come from a long line of long-lived people. As such, I am going to have plenty of time, Lord willing, to master getting older. I may need it.