On becoming 75

I reached the three-quarter century mark last month, well past the traditional three score and ten, and certainly out of warranty by now, and was thinking last night (as I drove to the airport) about what it means to get that old. Of course most of the members of my age cohort are now beginning to replace knees and hips, acquire hearing aids and pacemakers and stronger glasses, and many are beginning to fight the diseases of old age, such as cancer (I have had my own turn at radiation treatment). And an increasing number of my old friends and classmates and colleagues are beginning to turn up in obituaries. And in fact I ache a bit more than I used to, and find it harder to work upside down under a sink or on my knees in the garden.

One could become depressed at this, but then as my father-in-law used to say “old age is a gift denied many”. On the positive side, I have had almost 40 years now with my beloved spouse and best friend in the world, I have three healthy and happily married children of whom I am inordinately proud, and three grandchildren whom I love dearly and am enjoying watch unfold into young adulthood. And with the perspective of age I see the world much more clearly than I did when I was younger, and I appreciate it more. I think that is a worthwhile trade for a little added discomfort.

There is a sign on the wall of our fitness center that says “Old age is not for wimps”. That is true. It takes patience, fortitude, and more than a little humor to live a worthwhile old age, but it sure beats the alternative.