In one of the Seinfeld episodes, George, Elaine, and Jerry volunteer to visit with assigned lonely seniors. George meets his senior in a restaurant, then berates him for not constantly thinking about his demise. His senior listens for a while, then gets up and leaves, saying he just doesn’t think about it. It is not that important.
I prefer to think about it, talk it over, but that’s just me. Others my age prefer to avoid the subject. They simply feel that’s life, there is nothing you can do about it, so why waste time thinking about it? The choice is not a moral issue, and whatever works is valid. If you are in the avoiding group, stop reading now, no hard feelings.
By age 80, life is clearly going downhill like a toboggan. No longer any doubt about it. So, how do we cope? We may fool ourselves with little temporary improvements (like finally learning to identify wildflowers), but the overall trend is obvious.
In compensation, we appreciate each day, living it to it’s fullest, however we define “fullest,” because we realize each day is the best day of the rest of our lives, a continuing string of “best days.”
So, maybe tomorrow I will be a little less capable, but that makes today the best day for the rest of my life. Tomorrow, today will be gone, and that day will be the best day. And then the day after, so on and so on, until the last, which will really be the best, at least of the remaining days, which will be none.
What’s depressing about that?
(Lots, actually. Just don’t think about it. I kid you not.)