A Leged in My Own Mind

…how do I want to be remembered - is there even a choice?

When I was a kid growing up way out in the country, I knew a lot of older men who seemed ancient to me at the time – wrinkled, bald, fat, and sometimes crippled. I was told these guys were war heroes, ex-major league ballplayers, and bi-plane pilots. In my adolescent mind this wasn’t possible. Old duffers were always old duffers; they couldn’t possibly have been young and strong and brave in some past life.

Now I’m older than they were when I knew them. And even though I fit the description from above (wrinkled, fat, bald, and gimpy) I still remember the time when I was young and strong and adventurous. But how do my grandkids (and maybe great-grandkids) see me? Could they even imagine what I was like 25 or 40 or 60 years ago? Probably not.

Will they even know what it means to work your way through college? Would they believe I actually ran all those marathons and ultra marathons? And how could I have survived without HD TV, computers, cell phones, iPods, and especially wifi?

I guess the solution is: don’t worry about it, be happy. Keep doing what I do now. And accept the fact that I will be remembered as a strange old man and not the Greek God I would have like to have been in my wild, impetuous youth. My youngest grandchild was just born - what will he think of his old grandma and grandpa? Don't ask...


axman

Afraid of Dying?

…just about everybody is if they’re being honest and paying attention

Most of my life I never gave a second thought to death or dying unless somebody I knew died. That changed slightly the day I was diagnosed with cancer. Even then it was more strange than frightening. In recent years several close friends have died from long-term diseases including a variety of cancers. I was impressed at how calm, accepting, and unafraid they were.


In my experience, there seems to be a progression of views and beliefs in life.

At 20 I assumed I would live forever and never lose any kind of functioning. For a while that seemed to be the case.


At 50 I felt strong and still indestructible – even though I remember that I considered my parents old when THEY were 50.


At 70 (almost) I have come to accept mortality (sort of). But there is a lot I still want to do. My bucket list is long. I have slowed down some (OK, more than some) and there are more aches and pains than a few years ago. My prostate cancer is under control, for now, and my arthritis and other aches and pains are mainly annoyances.


My mind (this, of course, may not seem to be true to anyone who knows me) seems to be OK most of the time – if you don’t count forgetting lots of things.

I am less patient with long waits for medical appointments, slow payment of insurance claims, rudeness from people who SHOULD be helping me, and people assuming I am stupid just because I’m old and gray. I’ve learned to say things like, “Let me talk to your supervisor”, and “No, that’s NOT OK”!

So I’m just going to get on with it (it being living the way I want) and see what happens.


Axman