The fear of getting older.

Maybe it’s me but there is a fear of growing old. I suspect I am not the only one who feels this way as I have heard many times, “I really hate getting old and if I am ever in a ‘home’ you know what to do.” Although a “throw away” line as I call it, the real fear of getting older is not knowing what really lies ahead. But isn’t this the way it is when you are young?

I know when I was growing up I knew growing older, or going out into the real world, meant taking on more responsibility; it was something I knew would happen, but was not sure I would be ready for it until it did. However, based upon comments I hear from my kids, I have yet to grow up so maybe I am just delaying the inevitable. Actually now that I am past a half century I can look back and say it’s been a heck of a ride---a good one with a few bumps, but all in all a good one. I am pretty sure I am not going to make a 100 so I assume I am more than half way done; I am okay with that I just want to continue to live a quality life.

What is amazing is how one person can age so well and another not as well, sometimes within the same family. I don’t know who gave me my genes, but I have been blessed with better than average ones. My brother and sister are as fortunate as they don’t look, but they do act their ages on a maturity level. (I am striving to get there but have a distance to travel.) If you are a member of Facebook, of which I am, then you know how amazing it is to see photos of people you have not seen in a while. In some cases it is more than 30 years; what baffles me, and this is just my opinion, would be why they put their pictures for everyone to see? The photos I have up, at least the ones I have uploaded, are of the Chicago Bulls and barn shots. Two of my favorite things to photograph by the way.

I don’t have as many Facebook friends as most of my close friends. But it’s that surprise when you are “friended” and you look at the person on your screen. Some look great, some look the same, and you get the rest. My fear is the person looking at me will be thinking I look like option #3.

Then there are people like the photo above. Her name is Thelma and with a name like that, you can be sure she was not born during the Tiffany, Brooke, and Ashley years. Thelma is in her 90s and when we visit her I have to shake my head. She still drives, gardens, and remembers birthdays. The right dates, not a made up one so she can then say, “Oh I made a mistake.” Although she is more frail these days, she is getting older after all, you would have no idea how she does it. Call it genes, call it lifestyle, call it a life certainly you would want to live. I will write about Thelma when she turns 100, because there is little doubt in my mind she will make it.

Thanks for stopping by.