It's Tough To Get Old...But It Does Beat The Alternative

Where did this guy go?

I remember when I was young my dad got up one morning complaining about being sore all over. I asked him what happened. He told me, "I must have slept wrong." What? It's sleeping. How can you screw that up? 4 easy steps. 1)You get in the bed. 2)You lay down. 3)You go to sleep. 4)You wake up. It's so easy that a bed doesn't even come with instructions. What's so hard about sleeping that you can't do it right? I've even fallen asleep standing up, in class. And that was after the teacher told me to stand against the wall because I fell asleep at my desk. I've never had trouble falling asleep and I never woke up sore. That was until about a year ago. Now I frequently wake up sore all over. Sometimes being sore is the reason I wake up. How does your neck get sore from sleeping? Or my arm? Or my back? I don't think I'm doing anything different. Even going to sleep is sometimes a pain. My legs get to kicking like I'm running a marathon.

Oh yeah, and where do these bruises come from? I think somebody is beating me up in my sleep. I can get in the shower and get out with bruises. What the ???? The other day I was cooking and felt something wet on my arm. I looked down and it was bleeding! I had a small cut that I have no idea where it came from. This old age thing sucks.

If I were a car I'd be headed for the scrapyard. I can't get started in the morning. I squeak when I move. I have occasional leaks and I make strange noises for no apparent reason. I've had the occasional tune-up but that don't help. My exterior is shot and I really hate to think what the interior is like. As my mom would have said, "I look like I've been rode hard and put up wet." I went to the doctor for a physical and while I was getting dressed he went outside and spoke to the wife. He told her, "I don't like the way your husband looks." She replied, "I don't either but he's handy around the house."

I guess I deserve it. I didn't take care of myself at all when I was young because, to tell the truth, I never figured I'd make it this long. I figured I would be dead by the ripe old age of 35. Anyone who has known me for any amount of time knows what I'm talking about. I had to be right on the ragged edge all the time. I think they call it a "Type A" personality. In fact A plus. Now that I'm older I look back and really do wonder how I made it this long. I believe I was the original, "Hey y'all. Watch this," guy. Fast cars. Faster motorcycles. Crazy women. Even my profession as a cop. I wasn't satisfied to be just a patrol officer, which is dangerous enough. I had to be a Detective, an undercover officer, where I was living on that line all the time. I figured one of these would have gotten me years ago.

When it's my time I don't want people walking up to the casket and saying, "My, don't he look good." No....I want them to walk up, look in, and say, "Oh crap. Did he get hit by a bus?"

Another part of getting older is the loss of my memory. It's bad enough to run into someone and can't think of their name. I'll be working on something, walk to the shed to get a tool, and can't remember what I came for. I'll walk around in there for awhile just looking around thinking if I see it I'll remember what I was there for. Finally I'll give up and go back to whatever I was doing. Eventually I'll need that tool again and make a second stab at going after it.

I still love my fast motorcycles and cars, and well, the wife makes sure I don't have to worry about the crazy women anymore. They still turn my head occasionally and like I tell her, "Just because I'm on a diet don't mean I can't look in the refrigerator." But she's good to me. It don't matter where I get my appetite as long as I eat at the house. Retiring and walking away from my job as a Police Officer was probably the hardest thing I've ever done. To leave something that was ingrained into me, was a part of me, was rough. I still get that adrenalin rush every time a police car goes by lights flashing, balls to the wall. Oh yeah, go git em boys. But I knew I was getting slower. None of us want to admit that we're getting older and slower but police work is a young man's game. If my reflexes are off a fraction of a second it could cost me or, worse yet, someone else their life. I have friends who are as old as me and are still in it and are still great at it. I just wasn't going to risk it.

When the Lord says, "Come on, it's time to go," I'll be glad to leave this old body behind because I know it's all used up anyway.

I will continue refusing to let life pass me by without living every minute of it. It's a little slower now and the things I enjoy are things I didn't pay enough attention to when I was younger. Quiet nights at home with the wife. Time with our Church. Kids, Grand kids. Friends. Family.

I am still learning to appreciate the slower life and finding things that were always there but I never slowed down enough to look at, and enjoy.

It's time for me now to Live, Love, Laugh, and Enjoy life in an all new and amazing way.