Anders' parents are elderly, they're both in their mid-70s and the fact that they are slowing down, getting old and beginning to face the frightening reality of the end of their lives is starting to be too obvious to deny anymore. They are both relatively healthy, and they both keep busy and in motion, even though the pace is decreasing. His parents have been so welcoming and generous and open to me, and to us as a family, that the thought of anything happening to them is as painful as the thought of the inevitability of aging itself. I know that they both probably have plenty of good years ahead, but the relentless march of time makes me sad and nervous.
As hipstomp says: first you kill time, then it kills you.
I'm in denial about that, in a lot of ways. I don't want to think about getting old, losing the older generations, and everything that goes along with it. I'm scared to think of a world without my mother in it, for example. I'm terrified of one without Anders. I know that it's a natural progression, and not really something to get worked up about, especially since, obviously, there is little I can do to stop it. I can't throw myself in front of this advancing train and put up an imperious hand, and shout, "STOP!" Time and age will do that for me.
When I was young, I don't remember ever really thinking about anyone's age, other than maybe the usual sort of childish amazement that my teachers, for example, were ANCIENT (when in fact they were most likely much younger than I am right now). I remember giving my mom shit when she turned 40, and I remember one of the first times I returned to my university campus a few years after I graduated, and after some time spent moseying down the strip, exclaiming, "My god! Everyone here is a BABY."
Now, it sometimes feels that people in their late 20's and 30's are all "my age." Even though I'm sometimes bumped up against the edge of the sobering sense of disbelief that some of my friends are too young to remember things that happened while I was in high school or college, I don't usually have the sensation of feeling that I'm isolated in my age, but that most people I hang out with are, well, my contemporaries. I even, to a certain extent, have that same feeling with my mom, my older relatives, the whole next generation up. Aging means losing them. Losing them means losing part of myself. It means losing my past and not just my future.
Really Great Writing Out There Right Now: Mosaic Minds - Defining Moments
More Really Great Writing Out There Right Now: Digital Catharsis goes to Antartica (keep reading down, it just gets better)
Yesterday, at the AWC Meeting, I was surprised and delighted to be gifted with a gorgeous, hand-crafted, beaded microscope-slide brooch made by the enormously talented galestorm. I covet nearly everything she makes and have bought a few of her other pieces of jewelry. I'm flattered and grateful to have such a generous friend.
This is a crazy week, and the crazy snow and wind is not helping. I'm busy nearly every evening, in fact, this is the ONLY evening that I'm home until Sunday. Good thing I can limp around now and don't have to rely on the stupid crutches. Choir tomorrow and then on Thursday I'm going to a buffet dinner party for all (well, many) of the people that used to work at Ericsson with me. Most of them are going to be asking me how my new job is going, and I know a few are going to be disappointed to hear that I'm loving it and won't consider coming to work for them in a few months. :) Heh. Friday night I'm going to a slumber party that I'm not staying overnight for, and Saturday I'm planning to meet up with a bunch of LJ friends and Amerikanskers, and finally get the chance to meet e11en! Fun stuff!