Gettin' Old.

I used to fear getting old. For a lot of reasons. Physically, I wanted to hang on to my virility, my perky breasts, my long hair, and my smooth skin. Since my grandmothers spent their days confined to small spaces playing board games, I also associated being old with solitary confinement. I wanted to always be able to walk when I want, travel where I want, and eat whatever I want. Plus, since I used to be plagued with all kinds of diseases (no more now, thank you Jesus), I thought my future had no other alternative than for me to be a athritic, pained, senile old woman.

Since then I've learned to let go of that fear. I hang on to the conviction that I will be a lovely, graceful old woman with salt and pepper hair, a spring in her step, and a fire in her gut. I'm not sure Jason believes me, but that's okay. I'll show him. In 50 years, I'll be so sexy that he'll swallow a bottle of Cialis just to keep up with me. =)

* * * *

Jason, my mother, and I visited my grandpa in the hospital on Sunday. He's 94. He was just days away from moving to Houston when he came down with pneumonia which, at his age, led to kidney failure and heart failure.

When I saw him, I was a little taken aback. I know he's 94, but I still wasn't totally ready for the thin, frail old man I saw lying there on the hospital bed. It took him a while for him to recognize me. It didn't really bother me; hell, when you're 94, you can remember whatever you want.

Apparently old age gives you the right to talk to whoever you want too. The nurses told us that throughout the week, he hadn't paid any attention to them. No talking, not even a smile. They wondered if it was the language barrier. It wouldn't have been such a problem, but it's their job to know how he's feeling and what he needs.

So we asked him if he understood the nurses. Slowly but surely, all he said was, "Understanding them is enough." In other words, "I don't talk to them not because I can't, but because I don't feel like it. As long as I understand them, who cares what they're thinking."

I guess stubborness can be as strong as ever, even when you're 94 and lying in a hospital bed!

Anyway, I'm not sure if I want to live for a century, but to live long enough to raise a few generations, to still be in love with my husband, to still be praising God...I think that would be a worthy life accomplishment.