Dancing Toward Death
My generation of 70- and 80-year-olds is experiencing the ravages of age.
Around every corner there is an ache or a pain and something requiring a cat scan, X-Ray or an MRI. Of course, when they give you these scans, they find other things that were never known. In the last year my husband and I have been hounded by sciatica, lower back pain, an ovarian cancer scare, a kidney cyst and a TMI mini stroke.
And we are super healthy. We eat right, exercise, get outdoors, sleep well, enjoy life and have lots of friends and family to play with.
I have concluded that regardless how you eat, sleep, workout and socialize, our bodies are never going to grow younger. We are marching toward the end of our lives and our generation is doing everything it can to turn back the clock. Advertisers are barraging us with the newest, best, most successful treatments, salves, medicines and advice on everything from compression socks to panty liners.
I have no interest in trying to go back in time. That said, I admit I am not happy with the fact that my body is beginning to feel old, used, abused and under-appreciated. My mind is not as sharp as it was, but my Lumosity overall score for folks my age is in the 97th percentile.
This makes me feel secure, sort of.
Some days my piano playing is spot on but other days it is off. I blame it on a lack of caffeine or sleep, but it is just the way I am aging.
My grandkids love my wrinkles and my white thinning hair. They think I am beautiful. My husband still chases me around the room to catch a kiss, and as long as I don’t look in the mirror I convince myself I am young, beautiful, strong and vibrant.
The comforting moments come when I boldly tell people I am 75 and they act surprised. Now I don’t know if it is because they think I am older or younger, but I will assume the latter. When I go into stores I am often asked if I want the senior discount. This pisses me off because it feels like the room goes silent waiting for my answer.
I do Pilates twice a week, yoga once a week and I row and work out on an elliptical daily. I walk everywhere and do balance exercises. Indeed, I am fighting my impending frailty with all my might. But the truth is as every minute ticks by I am heading toward the end of my life.
At my age it could come tomorrow or in 20 years. Every morning when I wake up grateful for another day, I embrace my reality and thank the stars I am still here.
Our boomer generation is passing away one by one and this brings me a lot of sorrow. I miss those who have taken leave of this life. Too many goodbyes.
I have come to believe that death is probably a lot like birth. What we find on the other side is a mystery, the greatest unknown. I am dancing toward death with curiosity, courage and confidence that an eternal sleep may be just what I need until I wake up once again and get on with it.

