I turned 61 last month.
I never minded reaching any age, except 50. Before 50, the phrase “the rest of my life” evoked an image of a distant misty horizon that was always way ahead of me. At fifty that phrase suddenly evoked a clearer image, and I could see in my mind’s eye the horizon and end of the road; the only thing missing was a way to gauge how far away it is.
Also, on my 50th birthday, I was diagnosed as type 2 diabetic. I had already been diagnosed as having high blood pressure, high cholesterol, high triglycerides, and a heart murmer. And that’s in addition to the chronic depression and knee problems and dental problems.
The most obvious thing about getting older is the constant focus on health problems. When I get together with my older relatives, the conversation invariably turns to the prescriptions we’re on. Especially for those of us with huge doctor bills and no health insurance.
My greatest health-related fear is Alzheimer’s. My father died of it, as well as all of his siblings. In some respects (not all) my mind isn’t what it used to be, but I try to convince myself that this is normal.
They say that at a certain age, everything either dries up or leaks. Well, I can say that related to that, I no longer suffer from premature ejaculation. That used to be a big problem, but now I have complete control over my orgasms (and can still have several a day, knock “wood”).
I try to avoid all the stereotypes of older people, regarding “kids these days.” (Don’t get me started on their music or their manners or the way they dress. I’ve got the same complaints our parents had about us.)
My mother passed away last year at the age of 92. She lived with me for the last 10 years of her life. She had even more health problems and prescriptions that I ever had, and had a hard time walking and seeing. But she rarely complained, even though I know some of her aches and pains were constant. I remember how her face lit up when she saw someone on tv who was in her generation, especially since they becamer fewer and fewer each year. It’s not easy, being so much older than practically everyone.