Does Getting Old Hurt?

Occasionally I remember a stray thought from my childhood and it comes back to haunt me. "How does old age feel? Does it hurt?" I wondered about these things when I saw my elderly relatives struggle with physical feats that had become difficult. 

My question was prompted by the often verbalized opinion by adults that any pain a kid experiences is a growing pain. It made sense to me that if adults said kids had growing pains then getting old should be painful, too.

Now I am learning a new take on pain in relation to age. Getting old isn't painful by itself, but some diseases and conditions that accompany old age may do it. As a matter of fact, I rather enjoy the fact that I have lived a long time. But let's face the tough facts: tasks get more difficult as we age, healing is slower, reaction time is slower, and cell loss accelerates.  The only defense against the toll age takes is exercise. The doctor may call it rehab, but this is the place where pain really takes control. 

The goal seems to be to push your physical exertion to the outer limits. When my husband was advised to do exercise to improve his functioning, he refused because it hurt. I can see the logic of  rehab, but I'm not much better than my husband in the practice of it. Mostly I find it boring. I'd much rather read or surf he net or write a letter. I'd rather do almost anything than workout.  The last time I walked to exercise, I broke my foot. Events like that tend to reduce my efforts. Maybe I'll just get old and deal with it.

Grandchildren Are Grand

One benefit and joy of growing older is the ability to reflect on my life and remember how I came through the ages and stages of growing up. I spent last weekend with my daughter and her husband and two children. It was wonderful! I planned the trip around Katy's performance in the February recital of her dance class. Katy is in the youngest group and she only participated in one dance. It was a tap number and she was on the back row, but she was great. (This is a grandmother praising her, you understand.) 

I asked Shania why she never wanted to learn to dance. She said simply, "It's just not my thing." Good enough. Her thing was running for presidnecy of the BPA in her school. This year she surrendered the position to a new person and is now running for a state office in the organization. I am very proud of her accomplishments, too.

Now that all the fun is over, I am reflecting on where I've been and how some of it has affected me. I took tap lessons when I was 5 or 6. I remember the total embarrassment of getting caught in front of the curtain when it closed and having no where to go. I remember the demands of practice and the reward of smiles and claps.

I was president of my Girl Scout troop when I was 11. I don't know that I was great and I think Shania will surpass me, but I remember the responsibility that office taught me.  A few years ago I was the mayor of my town for about 4 years. If I had known I was going to need the experience, I would have paid more attention the first time.

It is fun and exciting and hopeful to see my grandchildren growing into competent and successful people. I want to applaud their efforts and support them through these experiences, good or bad. so that they are not afraid to tackle the next job. Growing up is hard work, but for me looking on, it's also joy.

Music That Sings in My Soul

I watched a segment devoted to Tim McGraw on  CBS Sunday Morning this morning. He commented on the importance of music in how we mark and organize our experiences. He referred to a song he wrote and sang entitled "Live Like You're Dying." His father Tug McGraw died afterward. He admitted it was the most emotional experience he ever had in recording a song. 

The interview prompted me to reflect on the way music has been important to me. I've never had any musical talent, but I've always enjoyed the message and emotion I found in it. I remember my uncle Jimmie would hear a song on the radio and say "I first heard that in 1934," or "I was dating this little brunette that really liked my hair." Now that I look back on it, I remember that Jimmie tied songs to significant events in his life.

I'm more likely to relate lyrics to truths like rare poetry and melodies to emotions, the kind that play in your heart. Mostly its the "golden oldies" for me. Some of the music I lean on are the hymns that carry the words of my faith. They inspire me and keep me going even when things are bad. Some songs are like old friends: they remind me of happy times, loving people, joyous events. I think Tim McGraw is right: Music helps us organize our lives and keep the beat regular.