I Still Haven’t Dropped Off

I Still Haven’t Dropped Off

I’m happy to report that I still have not dropped off. I’m not sure if “happy” is the correct word, maybe “relieved” would be more apt.

There are a lot of things about getting old that are difficult. One of the most difficult things is getting used to looking backward.  And buying new things when you’re old takes a lot of thought. If you’re 77 and you need a new refrigerator, do you really have to worry about an extended warranty?

And let’s talk about pets. You have to consider that your pets may well outlive you, and who’s going to take care of your cat or dog when you drop off?

Most of us never thought we would be old, and now look at me. Old, withered-up man!  Hah! I was young once. I never thought I’d ever be old. I thought 30 was long enough to live when I was 15. My teachers, who were in their 30s and 40s, looked like old shriveled prunes to me when I was in middle school.

Talk about prunes, look at me! Honestly, I would prefer you don’t.

If you’re an old coot like me, then you know what I mean when I say you only age on the outside, while the inside stays the same. You wake up one morning, look in the mirror, and see a 76-year-old ‘you’ staring back. That’s what it’s like being old. Though you’re old, the young person inside is still there. You haven’t changed your sense of self.

Sometimes you think you can still do the things you used to do until you try to do them. And the world does not see the me inside, it just sees the me outside – that old coot walking down the street. I think I’m walking just like I used to, but I know I don’t. I still try to walk fast, but if anyone looked at me lurching down the street, they’d turn away because no one likes to watch old people lurch.

And sometimes I get deeply annoyed when trying to put on my socks or bending over to pick up something I dropped on the floor. But what irks me the most about getting old is not being young anymore. It’s Nature’s cruelest trick, and you don’t find out about it until you get there. And by that time, it’s too late to do anything about it. 

Yes, I’ve acquired a lot of wisdom but I’ve forgotten much of it.No one wants to hear my wisdom anyway. I am just an old coot.

When you’re old, no one takes you seriously. You get a lot of uh-huh’s and head nodding. You’re not the life of the party, that’s for sure. And even when you do get invited to a family gathering all the young folks kind of ignore you after giving you a cursory greeting. I guess they think they have to.

If your family doesn’t live close by, and you have to drive an hour or two to see them, it’s a challenge. Driving at night drives me crazy, and trying to attend a Christmas Eve celebration almost certainly entails night-driving.

I can’t see the way I used to, no matter my competent and caring eye doctor. Why can’t people drive to see me? I’ll tell you why. Because I live in an outdated, non-open-floor-plan house, which, my gosh, still has wallpaper.  No doubt it smells like old people. And according to young scientists, old people also have an odor. It’s called the “old-people-smell”. See, you doubt me, don’t you? Why, because I’m old! But take a look at what Scientific American has to say. Read this.

People in auto repair shops think I’m stupid. Last year, I had a starter replaced on my 12-year-old car (126,600 miles). One guy said it would cost “around” $800. But I’m a slick old coot… I used AI to find the average cost to replace a starter on my make/model/year of car in my area was $375 to $550. Armed with this info from AI, I got my starter replaced for $425. Just because I’m old does not mean I’m stupid. 

And being old also means you have to deal with all the people dropping off all around you. An old friend of mine called death “dropping off,” and I rather like that term. It’s not as morbid or as final-sounding as “he dropped dead” or as euphemistic as “she passed on”.  It sounds so much better to say…” Did you hear that Ralph dropped off on Tuesday?”

Family members, friends, and acquaintances drop off all around you all the time. My grandparents, parents, parents-in-law, my sister, two brothers-in-law, my cousins, three of my best friends, and many people I grew up with, worked with, or were acquainted with, have all dropped off.

And all of that cuts deep because I know I ain’t gonna live forever. I am going to drop off some time, and so are you. I just don’t know when. I don’t want to know when either. I want to wallow and hobble around in blessed ignorance.

However, I will admit that this dropping off stuff bothers me a bit. I’ve been known to remind people that at my age, I might drop off at any moment. My kids don’t like to hear it, but it is a fact.

But the “good news” is – I still haven’t dropped off. Yay, for me!

OK. I’ve got work to do, and I have to go to the grocery store for cat litter and paper plates. See? I still have a purpose in life, and I won’t think about dropping off anymore (today).

But I bet you will.