Reflections on Aging, Life and Death at Fifty-Eight
We are born into an earthly existence that is measured in milestones, memories and moments. A process that begins at birth; recording our arrival time and location. A process that ends with death; recording our departure time and location. Our lives bookended by numbers that simply state our commencement and our closure as the dearly departed.
Digits that tell you nothing about the person; data without context, numbers that divulge zero. Death egalitarian in practice and procedure. Money or power or title or ego, cannot resist the ravages of time. Time crushing everything and everyone on earth and throughout the ether.
The names of billions of people who came before us and who will come after us erased; people who lived their lives just like you and me are living our lives. Their stories, their learnings and their earnings gone. A white board full of vibrant and vivacious living colors wiped clean.
The proverbial sands of time washed away by an ageless sea. The granularity of time evident as it slips through the hourglass. Our days are like grass; like flowers of the field until the winds of time pass over it and all is gone. The earth no longer knowing us.
Everyone, everywhere in every time living their lives with the certainty that a catastrophic flood is coming. A deadly demise that will eventually consume us and destroy everything we have created and have loved. Denying your inevitable death makes you a fool. Like the fools who laughed at Noah. Fools with a big boat and an even bigger belief in God.
Time is a frenemy now. I have more “free” time than ever before in my adult life. A veteran among the living; bloodied and battled with a lifetime of injuries, scars and damage; physical, emotional and spiritual. Body, heart and soul.
Medallions and medals collected overtime decorate my home because they defined my ego. Memorabilia that reminds me of past adventures and excursions. Memories of those who have participated in my life’s tour of duty, both the living and the deceased. The latter increasing in number with each passing year, until I am recruited to join deaths eternal ranks; my body lying in quiet slumber with my brothers and sisters in arms.
At fifty-eight, I’ve lived over 21,000 days, most of which I cannot remember. What I do recall are specific and sporadic stories. Faces and feelings captured by my heart and recorded in my head.
I’ve been enormously blessed to have had many wonderful experiences and a long life, at least in relation to my ancestors. Remembering loves and lust, accomplishments and achievements and the generosity and greed of others including myself. Fortunate to have had people who protected and nurtured my life and who have always loved me unconditionally.
When I was in my twenties, I could never imagine fifty some your old Don. I still can’t some days, even after eight years into my fifth decade. With each new year, my definition of “old” keeps evolving and increasing. Each new birthday and every passing year revises my demarcation and delineation of old age.
My body aches more, my stamina has slowed, and my desires are rarely sensual any longer. Past “joys” have passed. Simplicity is both a mantra and my method to living life. Secure in knowing that I have nothing to prove to anyone. My only commitment is to God; everything else will follow.
Knowing that fifty-eight is not twenty-eight or thirty-eight or even forty-eight. Knowing that this decade has brought new challenges and new contests, that I could never have imagined earlier in my life. Knowing that new challenges and new contests will continue to confront me.
I’m acutely aware of my body’s age and condition. A timeworn chassis with more miles then I could ever have imagined while my mind is distracted by past road trips and the passengers that joined me on my life’s adventure.
Only my heart has grown stronger and sounder, spiritually speaking. My foolish days of materialism and atheism behind me, when I thought I knew everything, only to realize that I know nothing. Like the fools who laughed at Noah.
Surrendering my heart to God; subjecting my ego to my Creator. Realizing that God is Love and that God loves me and all people. Love so great and so gracious, that I cannot even begin to comprehend Divine power and Deific purity.
Like Noah, my only responsibility is to love all God’s creatures and adorn God’s creation with whatever time I have left on my earthly journey until that final moment when my Creator calls me home. Reunited with those who have completed their worldly journey. Reunified with those who I have loved and who have loved me during my human journey. Reconciled through Christ, renewed by the Holy Spirit and rejoicing in the presence of God.
Peace.