The upside of being old ? 25 10 05
By say the age of 85 when one can no longer hold one's self "age is just a number", because one is being stripped of everything one once held so dear: just like William Shakespeare once observed "sans teeth, sans everything", "sans" meaning "without". In the year I finally lost my one remaining tooth, again in Arctic Norway where, was it two years ago, I lost my 2nd last tooth, this year for the first time I had to get hearing aids because of impaired hearing in my left ear, to do with some bones growing together, and so one's ability to distinguish a greater range of sounds diminishing.
Not to mention the increasing numbers of people who have died, belonging to one's inner circle, some of whom one would consider to be relatively young, at say 75!?
But if that represents the down side the upside is more to do with the days, per se, becoming more precious because, well there are not so many left for one thing. So as a consequence I no longer wish to lie in bed of a morning, but today and yesterday, I lay awake and scrolled on tik-tok for example, after first awaking again at 6:30 in the knowlege its being a Saturday I would have to wait until gone 8 am before my dear wife brought me my once a week breakfast in bed!
One thing that occured to me this past week in connection with growing up in England and its very different culture, to the one I am living in today, and every day these past 37 years, was to do with why I grew up shorter than my elder brother 16 months my senior, and could it possibly be to do with the fact he always drank the free milk at primary and secondary school, whereas I didn't?
But then I got to thinking that my elder brother didn't get so much mother's milk as I. Why so? Perhaps because 7 months after his birth I was conceived and because our mother was so much busier living in a strange household, no doubt making light of the household jobs, she shared with her not so friendly widowed sister-in-law? At any rate by the time I was born WW II had just begun and Hitler's aircraft were engaged in the Blitz of the City of Manchester, where we lived until mid-1941 when our Dad volunteered for war service, entering the Royal Marine Corps. Living in our City under siege meant, in turn, that for my first year and a half the nights were spent to a large extent in the family's Anderson Air-raid shelter,in our back garden. And the only way at our mother's disposal to keep me quiet was to give me her breast, so she confided once I was grown up. Interesting to reflect in my old age that this may well explain why I was never taken by pasturized Cow's milk when I no doubt more than most ppl had developed such a yearning for my mother's, especially since we were soon to be joined by our sister, who nevertheless was instrumental in continuing to facilite my getting health service free orange juice, our mother and her daughter were given at our local Welfare Centre..!?
Always possessing an inquisitive mind and the facility to think things through, indeed pursuing åastimes wherein I would develop the habit of going for long walks, from early manhood, and have what I would later call a continuing story: maybe akin to how life must have been much of the time for our erstwhile antecedents.?
Not to mention the increasing numbers of people who have died, belonging to one's inner circle, some of whom one would consider to be relatively young, at say 75!?
But if that represents the down side the upside is more to do with the days, per se, becoming more precious because, well there are not so many left for one thing. So as a consequence I no longer wish to lie in bed of a morning, but today and yesterday, I lay awake and scrolled on tik-tok for example, after first awaking again at 6:30 in the knowlege its being a Saturday I would have to wait until gone 8 am before my dear wife brought me my once a week breakfast in bed!
One thing that occured to me this past week in connection with growing up in England and its very different culture, to the one I am living in today, and every day these past 37 years, was to do with why I grew up shorter than my elder brother 16 months my senior, and could it possibly be to do with the fact he always drank the free milk at primary and secondary school, whereas I didn't?
But then I got to thinking that my elder brother didn't get so much mother's milk as I. Why so? Perhaps because 7 months after his birth I was conceived and because our mother was so much busier living in a strange household, no doubt making light of the household jobs, she shared with her not so friendly widowed sister-in-law? At any rate by the time I was born WW II had just begun and Hitler's aircraft were engaged in the Blitz of the City of Manchester, where we lived until mid-1941 when our Dad volunteered for war service, entering the Royal Marine Corps. Living in our City under siege meant, in turn, that for my first year and a half the nights were spent to a large extent in the family's Anderson Air-raid shelter,in our back garden. And the only way at our mother's disposal to keep me quiet was to give me her breast, so she confided once I was grown up. Interesting to reflect in my old age that this may well explain why I was never taken by pasturized Cow's milk when I no doubt more than most ppl had developed such a yearning for my mother's, especially since we were soon to be joined by our sister, who nevertheless was instrumental in continuing to facilite my getting health service free orange juice, our mother and her daughter were given at our local Welfare Centre..!?
Always possessing an inquisitive mind and the facility to think things through, indeed pursuing åastimes wherein I would develop the habit of going for long walks, from early manhood, and have what I would later call a continuing story: maybe akin to how life must have been much of the time for our erstwhile antecedents.?
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