Retirement here I come.

Get Outside Georgia

RAY APPEN Publisher Emeritus

So, I am closing in on 70 – 68 to be exact. That is old, or at least it sounds really old – seventy years old. Huh? No way, no? Yep. Of course, that is in chronological years. In no way, shape, or form do

I actually relate to that. I can still play tennis relatively well – singles of course. With a little more practice, my serve would still be maybe 80 percent of what it was almost 50 years ago. I can still get in the pool and swim a mile. I can still run. I still shoot a decent game of pool although my bridge is no longer possible because of the arthritis in my hands and I can still fit into my 32 x 32 size Levis – same as high school – although at times that button is a bit difficult to get into the hole, I must admit.

And I will say that I know – 100 percent for sure – that I still have another Appalachian Trail hike in me still (the whole enchilada) – were I to get the time off to entertain that project!

While I have noticed that I seem to be a bit more distracted these days and maybe forget things more frequently, I have not panicked about that and feel like I can probably attribute that to my ADD or perhaps to a lack of “brain exercise” – stuff like learning, problem solving, and intentional reading. That is, I feel like I can improve on my mental state to some degree – still. And I do try to do this.

With “older age” I have discovered many things that make me thankful, and which frequently do surprise me in a good way. In fact, thankfulness, may be one of the highlights of getting older.

I am especially and increasingly thankful for those few good friends I have kept – priceless.

I think I understand people better now – all people. I have more empathy I think, probably because I know more, and I have seen more. I see context better these days. And that generally is a positive thing, but not always.

Having more experiences and context to process what I see these days allows me to also see how and why we collectively stumble and struggle with life all too often. People die. People get sick. Bad things happen to good people. Children get hurt; that one is the hardest.

Life doesn’t always end well and that fact, as I age, becomes all too obvious and in my face. “My life didn’t turn out how I thought it would,” was something that a complete stranger commented to my wife Christina a long time ago while she was sitting outside a theater in Columbus, GA as a chaperone for the Milton HS theater program. I wasn’t there, but I will probably remember that comment forever, and I can so visualize that brief exchange.

“Just let me end well,” is probably the only thing on my bucket list I think and it’s not a morbid thought; it is a task – a proactive life goal – and not an unreasonable one. But that is something for tomorrow and not something I worry about generally.

Time, ah yes, time becomes more and more something more concrete and less ephemeral as I age. It is something – time – when you are young that almost doesn’t exist. Life just feels like a downhill ski run or a day at a amusement park or a spring day out in the deep woods exploring with a friend. Yes, we still do those things now – or similar things – but they are colored now by the knowledge that you graduated from high school over 50 years ago, or that 15% of your senior class are not alive, or that girlfriend or boyfriend that so attracted you so long ago, has changed – a lot. That, is “time” and it becomes more impossible to not see or to ignore as one ages.

Part of getting old – and it is a hard part – is realizing that life all too often isn’t very “fair” – that it isn’t and never was nor will it ever be. But, at the same time, there is a constant that is akin to “free will” – that we do control how we react to “unfair life.” The unfairness is that huge boulder that we must push up the hill every day and it either makes us or breaks us.

With age we start seeing the cycles in all walks of life. Everything has its own season and – over time – we see and experience the changes and revolutions.

I have noticed with age, I am almost never in a hurry anymore; I take my time – no matter how much in a hurry the person is behind me. I just don’t care – or care enough – to change how fast I go anymore. In hindsight, I think I realize that very little in life merits being in a hurry and that being in a hurry all too often has a cost or costs.

In my “old age” I find I crave great books even more. I appreciate art more. I appreciate just being alive more. And I know that if in my mind I still believe that I have plenty of time left to learn how to play the piano and play it well, then I am still young.

And, one of the most endearing aspects of growing old I have found is that each day I find that I am more in love with my wife than I was the day before.

So, that’s my story and I am sticking to it – another character flaw that I have discovered in myself in my old age – stubbornness!