Comfort of Old Men

We are the old men. We sag in inappropriate places. Liver spots have replaced the cuteness of freckles on our skin – skin that has begun to resemble tissue paper, tearing easily, leaving us wondering “now where did that cut come from?”. Our movements are accompanied by unconscious moans, grunts or wheezes. Flatulence has become an art form. Hair sprouts evermore profusely from our nose, ears and ass while it leaves our heads. We would take decisive actions for self-improvement if we could remember what they were. Yes, we are the old men; those who have lived far beyond the 30 to 40-year warranty originally granted out species.

Sometimes we are enraged and fearful of the decline. We buy ever more expensive cars and homes. We fluff up and pamper the little bits of beauty nature has left us. We scramble after women younger than our daughters. Unable to love ourselves as we age, we push away those who would love us. Fearful that they will not love us enough to care for us, we fight to pass laws that conserve our control over the world’s wealth and power. We dream that science may discover a way for us to be immortal. We claim ultimate knowledge of what is the “right” path for creation based on our religion, philosophy or science. We are willing to sacrifice anything for more life – our peace of mind, the planet’s resources, and our children’s future.

At other times we glimpse the beauty of the cycle of life and death. We welcome each day with wonder. Letting fear drop from us, we can see deeply into a butterfly’s wing with the same wonder and joy of a child. If we do not have grandchildren, we smile and wave at the children of others. We form new friendships over a cup of coffee. We get out and wander around – not worrying about how we look, knowing that even a toothless, hairless smile can dress up even the poorest suit of clothes. Embracing our frailty, we willingly hand over the power for decisions to our children. We know that they will make mistakes but we recognize their right to make them just as we made our own. We accept that we are not in charge of their future, just as our parents never were in charge of ours. We share our possessions with those who have nothing because we know living in a “dog eat dog world” creates dogs not human beings. We find peace.

If we are truly lucky we simply accept that we are old men growing ever older. We relax and enjoy each breath. We have nothing left to prove. We find peace knowing that the only lasting legacy is our circle of friends. Grand ideas, monuments, empires – and yes we old men, all fade into starlight in the end. May I be lucky enough to be the starlight seen years from now by another old man as he looks up into the night. May I begin shining today.