It’s no secret that getting old is just a bitch. It’s ironic, too, because the mere fact that you have bypassed all the others who didn’t get to be old, you might be the only one left who IS old…like I said, it’s a bitch. You might not be able to see well, hear well, walk well, hell, do anything well, but you are the one. The one here, who is old, but alive.
Now, how you choose to be alive is an entirely different thing altogether. Being a 50 something with a 90 something mother, and who had in-laws in the same boat, I see this dilemma (or not) as a predicament of sorts. On the one hand, there’s the person who fights. The person who is just pretty pissed that age has robbed them of the faculties that they have relied on to survive and thrive. And then, there is the person who simply gave up because, well, they were old…
Either situation presents a dilemma. A situation of despair on one hand, and a situation of struggle on the other. If I were to choose, and I suspect I won’t have a choice due to genetics, I will be the struggler. I will be the one fighting to the end to preserve my intellect, my skills, my strength…whatever it is I value of my personal genius. And for that I am thankful.
There is great importance in being Patricia. She models the old we might all choose to be. What IS old after all…? That’s it?? ok…well, then why the hell are we so worried???
-having lived for a long time; no longer young.