I saw an old woman fall down today.
One minute she was walking along with her cane and sandals and socks, heading into the jewelry store and the next she was on her knees on the cement step.
I felt so sorry for her that it brought tears to my eyes.
People quickly surrounded her, so I didn’t stop. I hope she’s ok. She hadn’t gotten up by the time I rounded the corner.
I have come to the conclusion that growing old sucks.
You can’t rely on your body anymore when you get old. You need a cane and still trip on the steps.
Your balance is off so you can’t use a stepstool without worrying about falling. Your bones are more brittle so you can’t go skiing like you used to.
You can’t hear on the telephone so telemarketers baffle you. You can’t read the small print on your medication or open the child proof cap.
You lose track of technological developments and can’t figure out how to use a tablet computer, DVR or smart phone.
People talk down to you because they equate age with being an idiot. They say things like “How are we today” and “Hello, Dear.”
They want to take away your driver’s license because you might mow down an entire class of second graders in the crosswalk.
Once vibrant, interesting people are reduced to worrying about their health and when the grandkids are coming to visit.
It all sucks.
Even the so-called wisdom that comes with age sucks because no one takes the time to listen to you. You could have all the wisdom in the world, and people would just see an old, irrelevant person.
So I’ve decided that I’m not going to grow old. I refuse.
I don’t know if that means I’ll take a bottle of sleeping pills and crawl into the bed at the first sign of old age, or if I’ll just spend all my money on fountain of youth schemes and new age remedies, but either way I’m not going to become elderly.
At least not gracefully. Because it sucks.