It’s been ten years since my back surgery. In spite of what I’m about to recount, I promise you that I had been off all pain meds, except Tylenol, for two weeks. I am highly motivated because pain medicine makes my coffee taste terrible for a couple of months after I quit taking it and I am definitely addicted to my coffee. But as usual for someone who loves wondering about conundrums or wonderful possibilities, instead of paying attention to the actual world around her, peculiarities happen.

I got to my doctors for my follow up appointment and as the nurse was taking my blood pressure, I realized I had my blouse on inside out. Of course, me being me, I didn’t keep quiet and just take my first chance alone to turn it right side out. The nurse swore she hadn’t even noticed. Which worried me a bit, because I like my medical support people to be aware of what’s in front of them, particularly when I am it.

Then a few nights afterward when I was still wearing my back brace at night, I awoke to make one of my usual trips to check out the plumbing. But I couldn’t get up because I was unable to move my arms.  As I was starting to panic that my arms were paralyzed, my attempts to move my arms made that noise peculiar to Velcro being tugged loose. It happens that the Velcro on the two wrist braces I wear for Carpal Tunnel Syndrome is the same as that on my back brace. Somehow, I had Velcroed my arms to my body. I finally managed to get my arms free after laughing helplessly for several minutes.

I admit that the down side is a major challenge because getting old is sort of like being born again.  As your physical strength dwindles and remembering words becomes like a game of Whack a Mole, you struggle to keep on being who you’ve been all your life. Slowly you have to face that the self of all your years is gone.  At the same time, you realize that best friends of many years have either “left the building” or no longer are able to share memories or even to make new ones. 

Parents, spouses, often even siblings are gone. Past accomplishments don’t play a part in who you are to younger people. And everyone around you now is younger. Lonely days and nights stretch out before you, as you try to find a purpose for whatever years remain.  The tiny minutia of life devours days broken only by trivial pursuits of fleeting pleasures or paradoxical efforts to stay healthy.

However, in the scheme of things, Old Age is for letting go of ego, pride, pretense, and delusions about both ourselves and others. If as Micah says, we have sought justice and loved mercy, we now begin to learn to walk humbly with our God and the least painful way is humor. If you can laugh at yourself, you will have plenty to laugh about.

My favorite old person story is about a woman at a nursing home who had dementia. The aide who was helping her into her nightgown was still struggling with her own mother’s dementia diagnosis the day before.  The woman turned to her and said, “Can you tell me my name. I can’t remember it.” As the aide started to reply, the woman pointed to a picture of Jesus on the wall and said, “Never mind, He knows who I am. That’s all that matters.”