Saturday, June 04, 2005


Have you ever noticed that the clouds seem to move faster, as you get older? As a boy, I can't ever remember a time that I sat still long enough to actually watch clouds move -- can you? So where did I cross that threshold of being able to watch the sky long enough to observe actual movement and change in the cloud patterns? And now that I stop to watch, why do those clouds seem so fast? Have they gotten faster, or have I just gotten slower and older? ...Isn't it strange that I'm now the one lying on my back, looking up at the sky, trying to get my little boy to stop playing for a moment and watch the clouds with me?

Do you ever look in the mirror and realize how much older you're becoming? Why didn't anyone tell me that I'm sprouting some gray hairs in my beard and on the sides of my head? How could it be that no one noticed my thinning crown? Is it simply that they really didn't realize, or are they just being polite? Why does aging have such an effect on us (and by "us" wouldn't I mean everyone who observes the phenomenon in others and not just those caught in the process of visibly aging)?

I certainly understand that this realization of aging is a bit sad or scary -- but isn't it strange that I'm actually not that upset about it (at least not today)? I mean, didn't someone say that gray hairs are a crown of glory? Can't I enjoy the fact that I have a beautiful wife and beautiful children, without yearning for some stupid notion of "glory days"? Couldn't it be that my glory days are now? How long do we have to let our society dictate what's best and most glamorous? Does anyone want to join me in a celebration of small gray hairs, the beginnings of wrinkles, and growing older together as a family?

Would you have ever though it possible to write four entire paragraphs with nothing but questions? And yet I wonder: does it only request responses, or can it in fact provide answers and reveal truth? Who knows?


At 10:39 PM, Anonymous mom said...

You seem to have wandered into my brain (an interesting thought, since I am considerably older than you and should have been pondering the question of aging for quite some time). For today, I will join you in the celebration of gray hairs and wrinkles and the many other signs of aging. Which reminds me of a joke Rose Chance used to tell: A woman walks into a party and a friend says, looking at the woman's legs, "Dear, your stockings are falling down around your ankles and are all wrinkled." And the woman replies, "I'm not wearing any stockings!"


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