It’s not easy being old.
It’s not easy being old.
It’s not easy being old you know, friends die and family moves and pretty soon you’re all alone. After a while just about all you have left is memories until you start to forget them, your body aches, your eyes grow dim and your hearing not always the best. People forget who you were, who you are and you start to wonder who it is that is old after all, they forget that you served your country or that you were one of the girls who danced with the boys before they were sent to war. They forget that it was you who paved the way for where they are today, you don’t want to keep reminding them, because you were not raised to be a bragger. You were taught to let others toot your horn for you; problem is you haven’t been hearing much tooting for a while.
Medicine is hard to swallow, most of it tastes bad and you really are not sure it is helping that much, there is this person who keeps showing up wanting to discuss your end of life plans, can you beat that, they pay someone to come to your home to discuss what you are going to do at the end of your life, you may be old but at least you know at the end of your life you are going to die, and either go to Heaven or hell, but their company so maybe you shouldn’t begrudge their visits. Although, this person keeps telling you, you are old, like you wouldn’t know that. You are starting to wonder just exactly why they keep coming to your home and telling you what you already know and asking stupid questions like what are you going to do at the end of your life, do they not have anything better to do than watch an old person die.
You weren’t always old you know, there was a time you could keep up with the best of them, worked two job’s, put kids through school, even college. You could dance the night away and still be up at six AM, you could rock one baby to sleep while reading to another. You could cook a four course meal while helping little Johnny with his homework, those were the days when you were considered vital, a contributing member of society, funny how it can change so fast. Now, you are nothing more than a burden, something to worry about, a problem and all you ever did was to grow old. You wonder do they go to death row inmates and ask them about their end of life plans. When it gets close to your time to go, will you get an appeal? You think not, because unlike them you are not considered a contributing member of society, it’s not easy being old.