Growing Old Is Not For Sissies

This year I turn 77 and it’s beginning to show.

Though I am now over three-quarters of a century old, I am in good health. I am blessed with good genes it seems and so too is my wife. She has seven siblings and I have four and they are all still with us and all in reasonably good health. My mother lived to the grand old age of 98 and my mother and father in law lived well into their 80s. My father was a casualty of World War One and died far younger than he should have with various pulmonary problems as a result of the war.

Both my wife and I are active, both physically and mentally. We have a small circle of friends and enjoy board games, music, travel, dinner parties, plays, movies, walking, our children and grandchildren, and stimulating conversation.

There is an opinion out there based on increasing longevity, better health care, more awareness of the need for healthy eating, and fitness that 70 is the new 50. This is just not true. Its a fallacy. I can remember being 50 even though it was 27 years ago. My joints and back didn’t creak. I had far more stamina. My hair wasn’t grey. I didn’t have a pending issue with glaucoma and cataracts. My hearing was 100 percent and I didn’t have a turkey neck.