Many of you are familiar with the Beatles’ song, “When I am sixty-four”, a song about growing old and not particularly needed when you have reached that ripe old, and you are going senile and bald. In the song, the partners are growing old together, but the gentleman is a sympathetic figure, wishing he would not be cast aside as an old relic, who has outlived his usefulness, mainly to do menial task of fixing worn out things and pulling weeds in the garden.
You know you have reached sixty-four, when you have to spend a little more time in the bathroom to make sure you have emptied your bladder completely to avoid an embarrassing wet spot down your pants leg, and you soon discover that is better to sit on the toilet seat because your aim is not as accurate as it used to be, and it eliminates putting the seat back to its original position.
At sixty-four, your virility has waned somewhat, so you spend more time in the bedroom – sleeping or watching TV. Ready Freddy or the Energizer bunny has become I am not ready. Conserving energy is your priority, like OPEC cutting back on oil not to flood the world market. Saving it for absolutely when necessary.
The athleticism as a younger man – playing cricket, soccer, and basketball, any sport with a ball – scaling an obstacle in a single bound, is now reduced to the speed of molasses flowing up a hill. Once you had the sight of a hawk, nothing could escape your eagle eyes; a ‘T’ not crossed, or an ‘I” not dotted, now you need six or seven pair of reading glasses strategically placed at every nook and cranny. Fine printed documents are a senior’s worst nightmare, devised by lawyers, real estate agents and Ponzi schemes to swindle the aged and sight-impaired.
Your children do not call any more, telephone conversations are gone with the days of Ma Bell. They are far too busy to be bother with your snail-paced lifestyle. Texting and social media are the only forms of communicating with these wonderful young adults, if you are not technological savvy, you only hear from them, the old-fashioned way, by word of mouth. If you are lucky to have grandchildren, enjoy this time when you will be worshipped and adored. Time flies by very quickly.
You would think that reaching the mature old age of sixty-four, most people would seek your wisdom and knowledge, like an old vintage car that appreciates in value as it gets older, no, the aged is heading for the junk heap of forgotten memories.
I am approaching this new milestone with the knowledge that I have lived longer than I am ever going to live in the future. A sober fact that everyone has to face, but I am overjoyed that I have been more fortunate than most, and continue to live a very productive life filled with curiosity, passion and enthusiasm. And all parts still function as intended.