It’s funny how one’s perspective on age evolves as one grows older.
Once upon a time I genuinely felt sorry for people in their 50s because I figured they all knew they were about to die soon.
I wondered how those ancient folks could concentrate on jobs and hobbies when they knew their expiration date was coming up quicker than a hiccup.
Why would they even bother investing in bathroom renovations and new downstairs carpeting?
It seemed to me that their age put them at serious risk, much like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
Now that I’m 70, I’ve changed my thinking. Well, change might be too strong a verb. Modify would be more like it.
Actually, I still think the same way. I’ve just fast-forwarded the same mindset to people staggering around in their 80s.
I wonder why the elderly even bother to focus on the here and now when their here and now could be gone and went in the twinkling of an eye.
After all, why get invested in baseball’s spring training if you may not be around to see the World Series?
When folks in their snoring 80s make dinner reservations for that evening, it has to cross their minds that it could be their last supper.
Granted, I don’t expect them to just sit frozen in their chairs and wait for the Grim Reaper to tap them on the shoulder.
Still, I would think it’s only natural for them to ease off the accelerator a bit and allow the streaming traffic of life to pass them by. Why gear up in the passing lane when the next exit could be yours?
It must be a scary to perch on the precipice of your demise, all your years sitting on you as if you were trying out a sample sofa in a furniture showroom.
I must admit, however, that if I’m still vital of mind, body and spirit in my 80s, I’ll likely still try to squeeze life until the juice runs.
But I undoubtedly will be wondering why any of those 110-year-olds would bother fully engaging in the moment, let alone schedule a dental cleaning in six months.