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  1. Sage in the Brush
    September 12, 2021 @ 4:06 pm

    Wow. That article hit home on so many levels. I’m not old old, but I am an old soul. Maybe because I expended so much energy in my youth, I got old sooner. IF a person has lived at all, they have regrets. Young people are oblivious to the old, as it should be, they are busy living. What they don’t know is that each decade has it’s revelations, and that one day the tide rolls out and reveals the jagged rocks of regret in THEIR lives.

    You are either ignored as an irrelevant ghost, or treated with condescension like a child. You suddenly become ‘vintage’ with your clothes and fads of your day.

    Things like sibling rivalry or betrayals, NEVER go away, despite self help books, prayers, or therapists. Your battered soul carries them til the end, no matter how deep you bury them. Occasionally someone rips the band-aid off and it all pours out and you realize that it is still all inside you. The great comforters of religion, family and “love’ are three of the biggest culprits of pain. You are left holding the bag when you get old and you finally question it all. Grand kids are an elixir that can keep you from becoming bitter.

    Old age is the great reveal. You find out who were your real friends, and how much you miss the few who really got you. You miss the lover that you were comfortable with. You become MUCH more forgiving of your parents if you become a parent.
    You tire of watching tv shows that you originally saw 60 years ago! You once knew the names of actors and actresses, but now have no idea who is who, so you watch Gunsmoke for the millionth time. You read more and more obits of people who died at your age! You laugh as hipsters pay hefty prices for clothes you used to wear because they were affordable! If you tell the same story more than once, young people bleed from their ears! You thank God that you knew the chicks before they became glued to smart phones. All of the accumulation from selling your days, is now bound for ebay and Goodwill. The very last mementos you cling to will go in some relatives drawer, if you are lucky. They’ll never know why the blurry black and white snapshot meant so much to you. Then life REALLY starts to beat you down until it makes you glad to go. You’ve seen it all and heard it all. The next generation comes along thinking that they invented that thing you did with your finger that she liked.

    Nature stays with you. The seasons and elements are reassuring. Smiles and kind words are kept like treasure in your heart. A glimpse of tits NEVER gets old for a man. EVER.
    You just start to understand life a LITTLE bit, and it’s time to pack your bags. Maybe we go into the next realm a little kinder and a little bit wiser. The saddest part is like the old African proverb, “When an elder dies, a library burns”. Maybe we can hope that we are all books in the library of the universe.

Watchman, what of the night?