Feeling Old

"The first thing I do everyday is read the obituaries. If my name isn't in them, I have breakfast. If it was in them, I'd have breakfast anyway. No sense going on an empty stomach." --George Burns

When one celebrates a birthday, they aren't really celebrating the actual birthday, but the anniversary of the day they were born. No one has more than one birthday. But for the sake of brevity, I will refer to the anniversary of the day of birth as a birthday.

What are we celebrating when we celebrate birthdays anyway? The fact that we survived another year. Is that a noteworthy accomplishment? It seems to me, unless you lead a reckless lifestyle, just surviving isn't much of an accomplishment. So when we acknowledge another milestone of existence with a celebration, we are really only saying that avoiding the grim reaper is a good thing.

But is it?

I see death as a graduation. A promotion to what I once heard referred to as "The Church Triumphant". The older I get, the more I look forward to it.

"This world is not my home,
I'm only passing through.
My treasures are laid up
Somewhere beyond the blue.
The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door.
And I don't feel at home in this world anymore." --William Walker, 1809-1875

I don't fear death. I really don't. I fear incapacitation, and pain, and infirmity, and Altzheimers. But I don't fear death. There are times when I would welcome it. A birthday is one of those times.

I also fear being alone when I go. I know that sounds weird, but that is something that really bothers me. I am single, and except for my son who lives with me, I have no one who will be with me when I die, and that bothers me. I do not want to die and my body not be discovered for several days. I wouldn't want to be the one to discover someone's body that way, and I wouldn't want to put anyone else through that.

My grandfather suffered with emphysema, and died of it at the age of 84. At he end, he became philosophical. My brother lived with him and my grandmother shortly before he passed. My brother, who was undergoing some introspection of his own at the time, asked him, "Does the thought of dying bother you?" My grandfather's answer was profound in it's simplicity. This is what he answered:

"It's not the dying that bothers me, it's the gettin' on with it."

That's how I feel on my birthdays.

I remember when I had my first grandchild. My oldest brother didn't have any grandchildren yet and he is over 10 years older than me. I remember asking him if it made him feel old when he considerd that his youngest sibling was a grandfather. I'll never forget what he said in reply:

"I never feel old."

I like that attitude. It just doesn't happen to be mine. I do feel old. And it is on my birthday that I feel the oldest. Last week, I was in Wendy's with my son, and the counter person told me he gave me the senior citizens discount. I didn't ask for it. That made me feel old.

By the way, I always go into the restaurant instead of going through the drive-through. I never miss an opportunity to use the rest room. That is something you learn as you grow older.

The way I see it, there is something narcissistic in celebrating birthdays. It is a time when we announce the occassion to our friends in an effort to surround ourselves with other narcissists who will offer the concilliatory pats on the back to make up for all the times they failed to acknowledge real accomplishments during the preceding year.

I still remember when I was in my teens, back when the earth was cooling, I used to say "I hope I never live to be 30". I did make it to 30. And 40. And 50. And so far, beyond.

Birthdays make me reflect on past failures. I've missed a lot of opportunities. That is my own fault, really, most of the time. Maybe that's why the pain cuts so deeply. If I had tried and failed, I could at least have the satisfaction of knowing that I made an effort.

On my birthday, I recall the words of my hero, Cyrano de Bergerac who said:

"How Fate loves a jest. Behold me ambushed. Taken unawares. My noble foe, a lackey. My battlefield, a gutter. It seems too logical. I have missed everything. Even my death."

By the way. In case you're wondering. I am 54.