…is getting old.
We Americans are youth worshippers. Â We are repulsed by old age and all of its trappings.
Recently, I realized with a start, that, incredulous as it seems, Â I am approaching my 80th birthday! Â I had expected to grow old Â
embarrassing then,  but  to my chagrin, now it’s my turn to feel  younger than my years.   Friends say I have “aged well” (putting me in mind of a Camembert round) but the benchmarks are there.  People  rush ahead to open doors for me,  offer to walk me across the street, pick up things I drop and,  (worst of all)  call me “cute.”  There’s no escaping  it.  I look…. I am….well..old.
Which is not all bad.  I am grateful to my ancestors for the sturdy genes that allowed me to reach  this stage in life, still  healthy and somewhat sound of mind.  I am blessed in so many ways.  I have wonderful friends and neighbors. My husband and I enjoy a very  comfortable life in a  beautiful community.  My family  actually likes me.
But getting old is not  easy.  Aging is a  process of letting go, of loss.  We outlive friends and family, we lose mobility, it takes concentration to perform tasks that were automatic a few short years ago.  Our
But even with all its obstacles, aging has really never been easier.  Our livestyles would have been  inconceivable to our grandparents, even our parents. There is a rapidly growing industry devoted to  social activities and services  for seniors.  There are  cruises, exercise programs, trips to exotic locations,  clubs, sports, educational courses and programs, retirement communities.Â
We should take full advantage of all of these resources.  We  need to keep active, to take care of our mental and physical health, engage with our communities.  But we must also feed our souls.  We need to be mindful of who we are  and the person we are  becoming.
I think the Irish poet  Dylan Thomas says it best:
Do not go gentle into that good night
Old age should burn and rave at close of day
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Although at  first glance this may sound like a call to arms for  a frenzied assault on mortality,  I think that is an oversimplification.  I believe the poet was challenging us to face our mortality and to live out our best lives courageously and with grace. The journey to  the end of life doesn’t have to be; shouldn’t be,  a  morbid and dreary slog of  loneliness loss and pain.
But it’s not easy.  The people I know who have aged well have confronted their  mortality head on and early on.  They planned for it just as one plans for any stage of life, education, career, marriage and children.  They expected  medical expenses to increase at a time they would be living on fixed incomes. *  They were not surprised when  sudden life-changing events required  a transition to new, more restricted lifestyles.   They were aware of the  need strong inner resources and for  each other. They  learned  the art of interdependence.  Preparing for old age is hard work.
It’s a high bar, but I’m going to give it a shot. After all, old age  is simply a season of life for those  who live long enough. I am fortunate to be among them.
*According to  a 2016 GOBanking Rates survey, 35 percent of all adults in the U.S. had only a few  hundred dollars in their savings accounts and 34 percent had zero savings.