I didn’t get old, you got old

I worked earlier this week at the polls for the State primary election. I see people I haven’t seen in a while, others I haven’t seen in forever, and some I’ve never met before. It’s fun work and I’m always happy to be called on to fill a shift (plus I get paid, not much but I don’t complain).

I saw two gentlemen in particular and was struck by how much each has changed in appearance. They both used to sport healthy, thick heads of hair. Not any longer. Both have gone gray, their hairlines have receded, and those previous full heads of hair have each thinned dramatically. These two guys got old.

For the sake of full disclosure, I’ve aged too. My hair has turned gray, I’ve got wrinkles and age lines, occasional curb feelers sprouting off my chin and patches of brown in my skin. I carry a few extra (plus a few more) pounds that I used to.

The difference in my being old compared to them is that I haven’t seen either of them in more than a couple of years and their new older age is dramatic change.

My aging has come along slowly. I look at myself every day and rarely notice changes, even as I have to admit that I certainly have changed. I notice most that I have aged when I look at old photos of myself. I tell myself that I like the new old me. It may be a lie I tell myself to better mentally cope with the new old me.

I don’t know if older is better but it’s what I have. There isn’t much I can do to change it. I will continue to age. What is left to learn is whether I will do it gracefully or with attitude.

About pennywrites

This is my third blog. The first covered what I thought would be my hardest battle. The second blog covered the journey that made the first seem trivial. This time I write because I can, not because I have to or need to.
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