One of the problems I find with being 82 years old is the constant downward slide. It takes longer to remember words and names. My mind begins a search through the labyrinth of neural connections in my brain, trying to find what I’m looking for. Unfortunately, some of the connections have been unplugged making the search take longer. The good thing is that eventually, I find it. The bad thing is that it may be tomorrow before it pops into my consciousness. I take a walk or go to the gym to work out on the exercise machines. That’s great, but the enigma is that every few months I’m forced once again to cut back some more on my walking speed and/or distance and to put less weight on the machines. When I go for a walk now I use a hiking pole to make certain I stay upright.

Where will it all end? In reality, I know it will end with death, but I don’t know how far down I’ll slide before I die. And so I take aspirin to keep my blood thin, another medicine to regulate my blood pressure, and one to lower my cholestrol. And now each doctor wants me to come in every six months to see if those medicines are still working. And I still haven’t found a way to eliminate that pain in my lower back. To borrow the words of T.S. Eliot, I don’t know if I will go out with a bang or a whimper.

It isn’t unusual for people as they age to get paralyzed by all the “what-ifs.” What if I fall and can’t get up? What if that happens in the grocery store? What if I go on a trip and something happens? What if I get too energetic and it triggers a stroke or a heart attack? What if despite all the tests my doctors miss something important? What if that pain means I have cancer? What if I go deaf or blind? What if I die before I’m ready? What if I haven’t done enough to go to heaven? Often, these what-ifs become like magnets that stick us to our recliners. And so we face the question, “Is staying active worth the risk?”

Obviously, I can’t do a lot of the things that I could do twenty years ago (or even one year ago). So now, I have to either accept my limitations but continue to do the things that I can do, or sit down and wait to die. For example, I’m no longer able to travel to Eswatini, Africa and teach a full load of classes at African Christian College. But I can teach classes at the church here where I live. I can’t meet with a full load of counseling clients each day as I did before I retired. But I can visit with five or six people a week to see if there is any way I can be of help to them. I enjoy nature photography, but I have to decide if the potential picture is worth the pain in my hip that the walking to get the picture will probably bring. But I also realize that I won’t get very many pictures if I’m not willing to put up with some pain.

I’ll catch you later. I’m headed to the gym.