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“The Dead and Dying Report” and Other Joys of Getting Old in America
Things I wish I could have told my younger self to expect
Lesson #1: Everything is relative
Are you forty years old? Guess what? You’re still young. Sure, the days are flying by faster than you ever expected, but you’re still young. Me, I’m 62 and just started drawing Social Security. When I was a young sailor, the senior officers and enlisted seemed so old and grizzled to me. Now when I see a master chief on base, they look like kids.
That’s the first lesson about getting old: everything is relative. I entered puberty in about 1974, about 51 years ago. 51 years before I entered puberty, America was smack-dab in the middle of the Roaring 20’s, a half decade before the Great Depression hit.
Damn. But I’m not old, not yet. I haven’t even grown up yet. Just ask my wife.
Lesson #2: No matter how old you are, your life is still precious
A long time ago I told my sons, “If you’re going to stick me into a nursing home, forget it. Just leave me on the side of the road outside a forest and let me go.” I meant it then, and I mean it now.
