Often when my wife and I are out, we'll see an elderly couple crossing the street or sitting next to us in a restaurant. We'll stop what we're doing and watch. With whispered acknowledgment or a silent nod, we'll point out the quiet forms of tenderness we see, a hand held out to steady a spouse or the patience of the first as the second struggles to lever him or herself out of a chair. It's not a form of voyeurism, and we try to be as respectful as we can, but it's hard not to look directly at the future when it presents itself.
It is generally considered bad form, of course, to get old. In today's youth-crazed society, making it to 85 or 90 isn't a cause for celebration, it's a person's own damn fault. Even at this late date in history, the act of aging is seen as unsightly – just count the anti-wrinkle creams and hair dyes out there. The young certainly despise it and the old warn against it. “Don't ever get old,” a woman I used to work for would tell me, “It's no damn fun.” She'd be paused midway up a flight of stairs, gripping the rail with a boney arm, the thought of even one more step was enough to produce a small sigh from her aged lungs like a train pulling out of a station.
Posted inCulture
Charles Finn On: Getting Older
Charles Finn is the editor of High Desert Journal. His book, Wild Delicate Seconds: 29 Wildlife Encounters from the Pacific Northwest will be out next year by OSU Press.