I identify with everything in this piece, even playing Spelling Bee every day. Thanks for sharing this insight, Michael. It’s meaningful in a way my tired brain cannot articulate at this moment.
I too, catch glances of the walking dead in the faces of others, and yes, I want to tell you all about my good friend, Tim, but I suppose it’s been a few months since I rewalked his city’s streets and had chance encounters with his son, who is his clone. They say you can never go home again, but I am finding this space inside of me, that is filled with those people.
The sundae with a cherry on top. The hot soup with a crunchy melty sandwich. They're excellent visuals for the difference between the "happy" of youth and "peacefully content" of a certain age.
Of course what you wrote about it is even better. This was a truly good one, Michael. Thanks.
A lovely piece. At 81, I have finally admitted I am old, though still mostly free of the inevitable changes that will plague me should I stay around long enough. But I am bemused by my ignorance at what aging means. Guess I never spent enough time around the elderly, or cheerfully ignored whatever they tried to impart. Or maybe they didn’t try to impart much, or thought it would be wasted on me.
But I feel like a teen entering puberty again (was also unprepared for that), with new lessons every day. Your thoughts were welcomed and appreciated.
funny. i'm 55 for background. just last night i had the same feeling as you described. was looking for photos i posted on FB from around 2015-2017. did a filter in FB and went post by post to see if i could find these photos. just re-reading all the stuff i wrote around the timeline and realizing that NOTHING HAS CHANGED. had the same anxiety about 45. had the same stupid thoughts like "if we can make it out of this we will be ok". truly, nothing ever changes. it's all dressing.
Yes, you are!!! I just started feeling that foreboding and yet also welcome sense of time in my 69-year-old bones. Can't believe you got here so much sooner than me. Srsly, beautiful writing, you whippersnapper.
However you and your celebrate this time of year, I hope joy and good health for you and yours. Oh, and please keep writing. There's a great book in you. Think about it.
My husband and I, when in our 20s, used to miss brunch often at our favorite restaurant because we slept until 1pm. And nobody was getting up to pee, either -- or if you did, you feel right back asleep. Now I regularly get up at 5am, mostly because of my animals, but I think it's an age thing, too. I have too much to do (or so I think, anyway). Memories have filled my chalice, consequences have happened due to eating dessert first, as you so cleverly put it, but I am certainly wiser and, as a result of experience, can finally see that most events will work themselves out. Your photo of the sundae reminded me of ones I used to love, the taste of which can't be duplicated, even if I try. Same with youth and those wonderful, irresponsible days when the end seemed impossibly far away. Tomorrow, I could sleep until 1, possibly, but my back would hurt and I would feel yukky and guilty about my responsibilities. Thanks for a lovely, thought-provoking essay! -- This seems more negative than I feel, my life is more substantive and full of real things that you can't have unless you have lived for a while, like a good steak, keeping with your analogy.
I identify with everything in this piece, even playing Spelling Bee every day. Thanks for sharing this insight, Michael. It’s meaningful in a way my tired brain cannot articulate at this moment.
I too, catch glances of the walking dead in the faces of others, and yes, I want to tell you all about my good friend, Tim, but I suppose it’s been a few months since I rewalked his city’s streets and had chance encounters with his son, who is his clone. They say you can never go home again, but I am finding this space inside of me, that is filled with those people.
“Losing a step” for me is surely forgetting more things than I wish I did. I miss being young and being able to remember several phone numbers.
I’m unable to explain how deeply this resonated with me. Simply beautiful and it brought me to tears. Not really sad tears, but tears of knowing.
The sundae with a cherry on top. The hot soup with a crunchy melty sandwich. They're excellent visuals for the difference between the "happy" of youth and "peacefully content" of a certain age.
Of course what you wrote about it is even better. This was a truly good one, Michael. Thanks.
“ We lose some things as we age…”
👨🦲
Well put. Thank you.
Great piece and all, but my main takeaway was that photo of delicious-looking grilled cheese and tomato soup! 😋
But then, I’m old. 👵🏻
Love these sentiments, reflections, and the way you write about them. Makes me glad I'm living in the good NOW days, too.
And now I’ll have The Wall in my head all day. Not that that’s a bad thing.
A lovely piece. At 81, I have finally admitted I am old, though still mostly free of the inevitable changes that will plague me should I stay around long enough. But I am bemused by my ignorance at what aging means. Guess I never spent enough time around the elderly, or cheerfully ignored whatever they tried to impart. Or maybe they didn’t try to impart much, or thought it would be wasted on me.
But I feel like a teen entering puberty again (was also unprepared for that), with new lessons every day. Your thoughts were welcomed and appreciated.
funny. i'm 55 for background. just last night i had the same feeling as you described. was looking for photos i posted on FB from around 2015-2017. did a filter in FB and went post by post to see if i could find these photos. just re-reading all the stuff i wrote around the timeline and realizing that NOTHING HAS CHANGED. had the same anxiety about 45. had the same stupid thoughts like "if we can make it out of this we will be ok". truly, nothing ever changes. it's all dressing.
Yes, you are!!! I just started feeling that foreboding and yet also welcome sense of time in my 69-year-old bones. Can't believe you got here so much sooner than me. Srsly, beautiful writing, you whippersnapper.
Beautiful
However you and your celebrate this time of year, I hope joy and good health for you and yours. Oh, and please keep writing. There's a great book in you. Think about it.
My God, woman, I've written several books already! They make EXCELLENT Christmas presents.
I should clarify, a book on your contemporary observations of where life is today. I am aware you are a noted author of more than several books.
He's "very famous" as an author, Kay.
He is very famous in my home. As he should be.
My husband and I, when in our 20s, used to miss brunch often at our favorite restaurant because we slept until 1pm. And nobody was getting up to pee, either -- or if you did, you feel right back asleep. Now I regularly get up at 5am, mostly because of my animals, but I think it's an age thing, too. I have too much to do (or so I think, anyway). Memories have filled my chalice, consequences have happened due to eating dessert first, as you so cleverly put it, but I am certainly wiser and, as a result of experience, can finally see that most events will work themselves out. Your photo of the sundae reminded me of ones I used to love, the taste of which can't be duplicated, even if I try. Same with youth and those wonderful, irresponsible days when the end seemed impossibly far away. Tomorrow, I could sleep until 1, possibly, but my back would hurt and I would feel yukky and guilty about my responsibilities. Thanks for a lovely, thought-provoking essay! -- This seems more negative than I feel, my life is more substantive and full of real things that you can't have unless you have lived for a while, like a good steak, keeping with your analogy.