Old age speaks

I wasn’t always the doddering, decrepit, drooling shadow you see before you. I was as young as you are once. 

Younger.


I didn’t always repeat the same story over and over again, I was busy living it, getting stymied by the plot twists and turns that came my way. And coming out victorious. 

Some of the time.


I was once the picture of youth, freshness and vigour. These body parts of mine didn’t always creak and ache.

My memory was once strong. I could dive into the deep recesses of my mind and dredge up facts that some of you might classify as history.

But it isn’t all downhill.

Parts of my mind are beginning to slow down, sure. But somehow, I do recall the most important things. I can recall living a good life. I’ve made mistakes that I’ve paid for. But I’ve also made mistakes that have not been held against me. Mistakes against which I’ve bounced back.

Sometimes I even forget that I am old. Until you remind me, by the respect you sometimes extend to me. But mostly by the impatience in your eyes.

Sometimes I pretend to be deaf so I can fight the hurt I feel when you say some of the things you do.

I have my own defences.

Remembering the happy moments of my past help me to forget the aches of the present.

I’m grateful for the little I have. For the fact that I can still stand and walk and clean up after myself.


So meet me halfway, will you?

If I tell you a story for the nth time with all the details attached, please don’t rudely dismiss it. It’s all I have left, now that my dear ones have gone.

And if my habits displease you, bear with me. They’ve been with me too long and I can no longer cast them away.



Before the end comes, let me give you some advice. It is the only thing I have left to give. Apart from the wisdom you don’t have time for.

Do the things you want to do. And live your life to the fullest. But remember, old age comes. Suddenly and inexorably.



Unless the alternative arrives earlier.