This Aging Thing – February 7, 2015 This aging thing raises its head periodically. Usually my life moves along at a steady pace. The years are ever changing, every once in awhile I am startled to do the math and really look my age in the face. I have been so very lucky, I have had much joy and well-being in my life that I am still here. I have not done anything spectacular unless giving up nicotine 52 years ago was unusual. My life is mundane, I wake up early, I take my merry old time getting out of bed and into the kitchen. There, I breakfast on oatmeal, perhaps a horrible cold cereal (what do kids see in that stuff?) with fruit or a bagel with peanut butter and cream cheese (delicious, try it). Always and all day there is fruit. Occasionally I make myself an egg, I really have to want that egg to bother. Then my day moves along to the bathroom, the shower that I take delight in every other day; that is my recognition of the drought and my own slowing energy. This routine is followed by a walk that I do alone. I am not reliable; I cannot promise another that I would maintain a schedule. Sometimes that walk gets postponed until evening, or right after lunch or occasionally I skip the day. The best part of the walk is the neighbor, any neighbor. I stop to chat with, the friend who shouts “hello, how are you today”. I try to avoid Sundays when most of my neighbors are in church or in hiding enjoying the Sunday paper. On Sunday the streets are usually empty and there is no one around with whom to chat. That is a weird lonely day. After my “exercise”, my slow walk around the neighborhood, it is time for lunch or for the lunch date that I have set with a friend. Those are the highlights of my day. I sincerely do not care where we go or what I eat. I am delighted to catch up with a young friend or an elder one. We talk about a great variety of things. We are all different; my friends come from a variety of places around the states and the world. Having a great mix of friends keeps me alive, alert and well. Knowing that others care, knowing that I can still engage in the game of catch-up helps sharpen my wits. Yes, I am interested in other people’s children, as they seem to be interested in mine. Do we talk about politics or religion, those two sensitive subjects that frequently send the best of friends off into anger or angst? It depends. So many years of hearing my dad and brother argue politics as they sat at opposite ends of the discussion, taught me to tread lightly. These “talks” were defensive, loud, angry and for me the younger child, frightening. My rule of thumb regarding religion is to teach as much about my own and listen carefully to what others say about their belief system. At this stage of my life I am in agreement with those who feel death without pain is the best way to go. My own thoughts about after-life are no secret, but they belong to me and I would never try to persuade anyone that mine is the only right way. Most discussions end up with an agreement that we really do not KNOW what is to come. Believing is neither right nor wrong; it’s personal. Politics is a different story. There is a variety of political belief out there in our heads and on our tongues. Through our genes, our jobs, our parents, our life styles, we have made personal decisions about what we believe is good for our own community, city, state and country. Our beliefs are sincerely held many of them have been thoroughly perused. We listen to the speeches; we try to believe the officials and those who insist they will do the right thing for us, I hope those I trust have researched the issues and are sincerely interested in helping us to better our lives. Experience attempts to teach us to distinguish the good people from the not-so-good folks. There is, however, no “good-ometer” to refer to. It is said that by age 25, we are achieving judgment. Hopefully, good judgment includes caring, carefulness and perspective. Meanwhile I just keep on trucking through this aging thing, enjoying all the good things and people who come my way.