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Getting older means getting closer to death. Not an original thought, but one that is nevertheless true, not to mention a bit on the depressing side, especially if one looks at getting older as the proverbial glass half empty. And (to make matters even more depressing) depending on just how old one is, the glass may be much more than half empty. Maybe even three-quarters empty or more.
But take heart. Getting older can just as easily be thought of as the glass being half full; when one considers that getting older means that one is still alive (and kicking, if you're lucky). Once you stop getting older, you're dead. So in that respect getting older is a good thing. I tell myself. As the joke goes, getting older isn't so bad considering the alternative.
It has been said that the human being is the only creature on earth that possesses the knowledge of his own demise. We don't know exactly when, but we know that at some point our number will be called, and no, that doesn't mean that we've won the microwave at the bingo tournament. We know we will die someday.
But how do we know that animals are not aware of their mortality too? Is it our human vanity which causes us to assume that only we have the knowledge of our ultimate demise? Who is to say that other creatures may know it just as much as we do. Why do we believe that they are ignorant of that fact? Just because they can't speak to us of it, doesn't necessarily mean that they are unaware that their lives will end at some time.
Animals can't communicate with us in words, so how do we know what is going on in their minds about life and death? A dog or cat will let us know when they are hungry and want to be fed. They will tell us when it is time to go out. They will show us many of their emotions through their body language. But there's no body language for "Y'know, I've been meaning to talk to you about my death. Have you made any arraignments yet?" A dog can learn to play dead, but that doesn't count.
So just because our pets don't discuss their personal mortality with us, I don't necessarily buy into the idea that they don't realize they will die at some point in time. Lots of human beings don't want to talk about it either. Just because Uncle Carl won't discuss his mortality with me, doesn't mean he is ignorant of it. Maybe our pets have other things on their mind, like eating, sleeping, chasing squirrels, going for a walk, cuddling up to us, or playing with the tennis ball. Doesn't that sound like more fun than getting into the depressing life and death stuff?
I'm getting older and I've accepted it. I don't really have much choice in the matter, actually. At this stage, I'm just going along for the ride. But I don't go in much for the asinine bromides on aging. You know the ones, like "You're not getting older, you're getting better." What imbecile came up with that one? Besides the fact that it isn't true, it doesn't make any sense. Try using that logic for other things. "My car is 15 years old, but it isn't getting any older, it's getting better."
"Age gracefully" is the expression. So what is "aging disgracefully?" Dribbling soup down your chin, or blowing your nose in your shirt, I guess. And aging ungracefully is falling down the stairs on your face or falling asleep in midsentence, your own midsentence.
In the final analysis, (to use an appropriate phrase) getting older is simply just getting on with it, as the British might say. I'm sure he never said this, but I can imagine Churchill saying, "I'm not getting older, I'm simply getting on with it."
The sad part about getting older for me is, now that I'm closer to death, I feel like I'm just now starting to get the hang of this thing called life. A bitter irony.
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