I never figured out how to be ok with how much of life is full of death and decay. From your mid 20s, it’s like your body is slowly falling apart. All that effort to grow into adulthood, and then so quickly it’s all going downhill, like it was all for nothing.
Now in my mid 30s, I’m officially over the hill. My back hurts, my teeth are worn down, I have huge bags under my eyes from decades without sleep, and most of my hair is gone. My parents are now pensioners. It always strikes me whenever I see them: when did they turn into these haggard creatures, their bodies betraying them? My Mum is having hip problems. After decades spent doing yoga and diligently looking after her health, she’s suffering just the same. My aunt, who’s 5 years older, now looks frail. She’s having serious neurological issues. I remember her being so full of energy and drive, always on top of everything.
Our family dog, who’s approaching 15, is now ancient. I raised her from a puppy back when I was still living with my parents. She’s probably the closest I’ll ever come to parenting, sad as that is. She still enjoys walks and playing, but she’s getting slower and slower, and she keeps having leg problems. When we walk together she lags behind. I look back at her and I can’t help thinking about how someday soon she won’t be able to follow anymore. She’ll fall and not be able to get up on her own, and then it’ll just be a matter of time. And I don’t know how to deal with the thought of that loss. Because all I can think of is the energy-filled puppy she used to be, who would curl up in my lap to sleep and whine when I wasn’t around. So I’ll be losing another link to a different time, when I still had some hope in me. When I still had some energy and life in me.
And I’m filled with this sense of regret. Which is stupid. Because she’s had about as good a life as any dog could hope for. There’s really nothing to regret there, besides not being able to provide her with the infinite amount of attention she expected from everyone in the room. I suppose I regret not appreciating her more. But really, I think it’s that I regret wasting that time in my own life, when we were both still young.
Attachment is cruel. One by one, those you invest your emotions in are taken from you. And as death moves closer and closer to you, it becomes ever more clear that soon, it will be your turn. And death is terrifying enough on its own – the permanent end of all your thoughts, dreams, plans, emotions, possibilities – the end of you. I just wish it didn’t haunt you throughout your life, by making it clear that you have an approaching appointment.
If I’m going to keep living, then my focus should be on living. Instead, all I see around me is decay. The weakness and frailty of biology under the crushing weight of time. And it fills me with despair. No matter how many times I remind myself to live in the present, and appreciate whatever positives are still left to me.
I’ve left it too late to try to start living. All that’s left is the junk years of my life. The decline. And I don’t have it in me to make the most of that.
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Don’t you wish we could be like dogs? They know what death is I’m sure, as all animals do, but it doesn’t seem to bother them. I always wonder, do they just not think about it? Or do they think about it but they know something we don’t? For all our supposed intelligence over the 4-legged ones, why can’t we accept this 1 inevitability that all other living creatures accept no problem?
I’m sure your dog knows she’s not as strong as she used to be, and yet I bet she’s just as happy as ever within her limitations. My dog is the same way, also older in years and experiencing major hip and mobility issues. But she’s just as happy as when she was a puppy. What do they know that we don’t?
I don’t know if animals do understand death in the way we do – I’m not sure they have the same grasp of time or are able to think of themselves as individuals that will come to an end. I think if they see and smell a dead body then they probably accept that whoever it was isn’t going to be around anymore, but beyond that I don’t know.
We conceptualize ourselves – “I’m a person with meaningful goals and motivations” – which makes death seem like a problem. I don’t think animals have a sense of self which they’re acting upon – they go mostly off instinct. Food/attention = good = happy. When they see death, it doesn’t relate to them, because they don’t think of themselves as a being who death could happen to.
Irony being today my knees were giving me fits, and I had to say to myself “not getting any younger.” I can’t say I’m particularly afraid of aging. I worked with teenagers when I was in my 20s, so even then I knew that I wasn’t THAT young anymore. I also have an old dog, she’s about to turn 13, I think. The point is she’s a large dog, every year after 10 has been a gift.
When I’m depressed one of the big things I worry about is losing her, I don’t feel ready I suppose. I also feel perpetually clenched waiting for it to happen. She’s doing better now, when she gets to work out she seems to be in less pain.
As for myself, I have foreknowledge. I attended both of my grandparents in their final years. I know what it looks like. Because of my outsized empathy, in a way I lived it. I move slower, and that’s okay.
What bugs me is the fear I’ll mess up my knees. I’ve known several people older than me to get a knee injury and never fully recover. It’s worse for tall people, apparently. Point is that particular injury has an outsized impact on what a person is able to do. So when my knee hurts I baby it. I have a cane, and I lean into it when I’m hurting.
I think wisdom is supposed to be the offset to getting older. I’m apparently not old enough to see that yet.
Yeah, wisdom and the perspective it gives you is supposed to allow you to enjoy your life more, even as your body falls apart. I just can’t seem to get there, much as I try.