Old Age

Old age looks like this.

IMG_0362 (Angel, 11yrs old, last Monday)

It also looks like this-

10856547_723680731076354_4966578677861580295_o

And often like this-

701939_313000002144431_254566541_o

Something I increasingly find my mind occupied with is old age.  Maybe it has to do with being truly at mid-life; looking back, peering forward.  Maybe it has to do with being born in the summer; feeling the 45th year, come to an end.

IMG_0371

45 is a good place to be, especially if you’ve done all you set out to do, have health, love, and humour.  When I was young, younger- I couldn’t envision the 40s.  A woman in her 40s was unfathomable to the woman I was in my 20s- the 40s felt so old, and conveniently, faraway.

1073098_405342992910131_753528337_o(43rd birthday, July 2013)

If the 40s is Act 2, I am in the last scene, just about to exit, downstage, left.  So increasingly, I keep trying to imagine Act 3- where will I be, what do I do next.

IMG_0369

Because in the final act, I won’t have youth anymore, nor the luxury of time.  I don’t want to arrive at Act 3 unprepared.  My grandmother’s life, and her passing, profoundly affected me.  I want to grow old like my grandmother- with so much dignity.  In the final days when her mind fully receded, ensconced in her own home, she lived in the care of those whom she loved most, and who fiercely loved her back.

Old age can also look like this-

IMG_0408 (Cookie, 18years old, last Tuesday)

For “here we are trapped in the amber of the moment.  There is no why.”-  Kurt Vonnegut

 

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