Eighty-Four, Can You Believe It?

DEAR GEORGE, Holy Moly. Today is birthday number 84. It’s arrived much sooner than I expected. When I was five years old, it seemed to take forever to turn 6. Now, however, birthdays simply whiz by. I wish I could figure out how to slow time down.

The other day I was crossing Ludlow Avenue in the crosswalk across from Graeters. My hip was bothering me, and I was limping along. An SUV came to a stop in front of the crosswalk, and the driver hollered at me, “Get a move on, old man!” That was a shock. I wanted to tell him that I’m not that old, that I just have bursitis in my hip. But he was gone before I could utter a word. “Old man” is a nasty label because of the negative and often unwarranted stereotypes that it stirs up, e.g., physical and mental deterioration, frailty, incompetence. I told one of my friends about this episode and she pointed out that, in fact, I am an old man. Literally that is true, but I don’t feel any connection to the miserable portrait that follows.

Gerontologists divide old age into three stages: young old (65 to 74), middle old (75 to 84), and old old (85 and above). Young old sounds most favorable, old old sounds worst. My birthday, of course, puts me near the tipping point. Young-olders are healthiest and most independent; middle-olders begin to need some assistance; and old-olders, because of disease and disability, are dependent on caretakers, often in assisted care facilities. These, of course, are abstract categories, designed to describe the average progression of the aging process. At 84 my life and experiences still fit in the young old category, and I plan to hang out there as long as my luck holds out.

Now and then I get anxious about my age, but I think that’s foolish. I’m healthy, have lots of interests, and enjoy many life pleasures, so it’s ridiculous to waste a lot of emotional energy on an imagined future at some unknown time. Because of the pandemic, I’ve lost a lot during the last twelve months and I’m looking forward to a much richer and more enjoyable 85th year. We are starting by going to the Warren County Fair this afternoon in Lebanon. I can’t wait to mingle with the rabbits and the goats. LOVE, DAVE