77
By
Leonard Zwelling
Every day, I read the obituaries in The New York Times. Lately, with the deaths of Sly Stone and Brian Wilson, these life stories have hit close to home. Although surely several great Americans have died in their sixties, like the baseball star Ryne Sandberg, most people seem to die in their eighties.
For some reason, this year, when I turned 77, it seemed like I had jumped forward by more than a year. 77 seems more than a year older than 76. I can’t explain it, but this feels like I am really old. I can no longer die young. Even in the Houston Chronicle section where they list birthdays of the famous, none in the list today (July 31) was older than I am. I really feel it this year.
The real question, I guess, is, is that a bad thing? I believe that it is not. Yes, I cannot walk very far. I cannot go on hiking trips or even on walks around the block with my wife. My back will not hold up. But, I can lift weights, do a conditioning class, participate in Pilates, and play golf. Hey, I’ll take it.
Also, at 77, I think I still have my marbles, as a psychiatrist friend has said about both himself and me. I can read and write and know where I am. None of these are inconsequential, and I don’t take any of them for granted.
Here’s the thing. Just as there is no handbook on how to parent, there isn’t one for aging either. Oh yes, I know there are countless self-help books claiming to assist with parenting and with aging. Forget about them. As a parent of a child who needed a lot of help to get through the first twenty or so years of life, and as an old marathon runner paying the price for all that pounding, I do wish I had the insight then that I have now, but that is not the way the puzzle works.
You live and then you die and how to do what you do in between is tough to perfect by reading a book.
Just as I learned how to be a better parent as I did it, I am learning how to be a better old person now. I try to be a good patient for my many doctors. I follow a strict diet, exercise like crazy, and take all my meds every day. I use the CPAP, see the dentist twice a year, and have my eyes examined every year. I get screened for colon cancer with colonscopies every five years (I’ve had polyps). My PSA is followed closely as are my various heart issues (I had by-pass surgery in 2002 and two atrial ablations). TMI? Maybe, but I’m old and can run on a bit.
So, I am 77. I have no idea what my last number will be, but I am going to put it off for as long as possible even if I feel old. After all, age is just a number, but mine is getting up there. And for that, I am so grateful, aches, pains, and all.
