Feeling old
I’ve been house bound for the last 5 days due to a cold, or the flu, who knows. Whatever it is, it sucks.
Now that I’m recovering, I’m able to reflect a bit on illness after 55. I realize that what merely inconvenienced me at 25 just might kill me at my age now. And maybe that’s what dying is going to be like, all stuffed up and miserable, unable to walk around without getting dizzy, preferring to just stay in bed and snooze. And that’s if I’m lucky.
So for nearly a week I’ve been musing and feeling sorry for myself contemplating my inevitable demise. Then I watched this classic bit by my philosophical hero, George Carlin, and realized that growing old wasn’t all bad.