What comes with old age?

Cyndi Perlman Fink

Aches, pains, can’t see, can’t hear, and what’s a hormone? Those are just some of the cons about being old.

These are the pluses.
Wisdom. At 20, I was certain that I knew everything. At 78, I know that I know nothing. Knowing nothing is just fine with me.

Peace. I don’t care what I look like. I walk the dog late at night in my pajama pants. If a neighbor doesn’t like it, let them lump it.

Makeup. Who cares? No one sees me anyway. I’ve been invisible to men since I hit my 50s. Woman started knocking me over at the mall in my 60s. The demise of the mall, something I never thought I would see, saves me any further injury.

Understanding. I wouldn’t go back if you paid me. These kids who want to live forever, well, it will be centuries before science knows how to extend life without the attendant deterioration that rears its ugly head.

Think of all the diseases and body anomalies that would need attention. There is gravity. You do shrink. Your spine does compress, your skin sags, and if you have arthritis, your hands look like you have carbuncles on your knuckles.

When I was growing up, I thought I knew one thing for sure. Alzheimer’s would be cured. Medicine isn’t even close.

Acceptance. Let me go before the planet burns up, rampant food shortages happen, and we turn back into animals. Oh, wait. We’re already there.