On Getting Older

I saw an interesting thought on Facebook the other night…

“Children, remember that as you are growing up your parents are growing older”.

I was 27 years old when my oldest son was born. He is now 33 years old. When I was 33 years old I would get on the floor and let him jump on me and beat me up. Now I am 60 years old and I get on the floor with my granddaughter. She doesn’t want to beat me up. She wants me to have tea parties and to play with stuffed animals. When I was 33 years old I would jump up from the floor. Now I must get on all fours, crawl to the sofa, and use it for balance as I slowly get up. I usually do this with some discomfort. I think it is a little disconcerting for children to realize that their parents are getting up in years. My children can’t always accept that I am not the man I used to be. I am slower, weaker, and forgetful. I tire more quickly and my energy level is much lower. Of course, it’s not all bad. I am also kinder, more patient, more tolerant, more compassionate, more understanding, and more relaxed. I have survived much and let much go. I worry less, live more in the moment, and I’m more contemplative. I take nothing for granted, enjoy life as much as possible, and I sometimes get lost in beauty. I also notice that as I am getting older, so are my children. My 82 year old mother has a sixty year old son! The poet, Robert Frost, described life in three words. He wrote that “it goes on”. Yes, it does go forward for all of us at the same pace but we didn’t all start the journey at the same time.