Over the past six months we have been forced to face even more of the signs of aging. I have had to take a few days to try to come to grips with this reality.
It is difficult to accept that I can no longer pretend I am a fifty-year-old who imagines he can do the things a thirty-year-old can do.
I love my life, and I love the experiences and knowledge that come with age. I love all the adventures I still embrace. I even love the lessons I have learned as well as the lessons I have decided not to learn or have overtly decided to unlearn.
But I resent the constant reminders that physical (and mental) deteriorations persist --- e.g. deaths of friends and relatives, illnesses, lost stamina, etc.
When I was in my 50s, I often imagined I could still do things that I could do when I was in my 30s; in fact, I often did those things and more, in part to prove to myself that I still could do them and in part to deny the aging process.
It doesn't work that way anymore.
And I must work at adaptation.