On Growing Old

I woke up early this morning with a hoarse voice, a frog croaking sound that is so unpleasant to listen to.  After breakfast, there went  the gargantuan headache that lasted until late this afternoon.  It must be the weather prevailing this summer. Or maybe, it was the exhaustion of tending the garden for almost three straight hours yesterday.  I was able to trim the grass though. I attempted to trim our Fukien tea plants and  dwarf Pandakaki into perfect round shapes. At least they’re not as dense as they were before. My goodness, it’s hot, hot, hot in Metro Manila.

Just got hold of a book  called  The Measure Of My Days by playwright and Jungian analyst  Florida Scott-Maxwell. To quote the book’s brief summary,  it “explores the unique predicament of one’s later years: when one feels both cut off from the past and out of step with the present; when the body rebels at activity but the mind becomes more passionate than ever.”  She wrote it when she was eighty. I haven’t finished the book yet, so far it’s a joy to know than even if you reach that age,  you can  still do something like writing a book.  I’m thinking, could I still write or blog when I reach the ripe old age of seventy?

I have blogged about growing old gracefully. And do you know the subtle difference between growing old and aging? Aging is when you add years to your life but growing old makes you wiser through the years (just my thoughts actually).  Five years ago, a friend who came home from Rome gifted me with a copy of Nora Ephron’s I Feel Bad About My Neck and I had a good laugh reading it. I even blogged about it  here.  Some people I know are afraid to grow old but it’s something inevitable just like seeing white hairs on your head  creeping one by one.  Sometimes  one’s immunity goes haywire and you feel the aches and pains.  There’s an adage that says health is wealth.  May we still be healthy in our old age.

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