Nov 26 2007

Getting Old Sucks

At my age, I haven’t really got to the point where getting old really starts to hit hard. On the contrary, the only things I’ve noticed is that I tend to need more sleep than usual, and that my waist has expanded more than it was twenty years ago.

One of the other things I remember from twenty years ago was helping my parents move furniture and clean apartments and other related things. Back then my dad was always outdistancing me; he could lift heavier stuff for longer amounts of time. He’d always find me sitting down somewhere, out of breath, and make some crack about how I wasn’t trying hard enough or something. He wasn’t out of line; he was more than twice my age. Why should I be so out of breath when he was still going?

But a few days ago I was helping my father move some stuff around their house (they’ve almost finished moving in). I realized about an hour into the heavy lifting that my dad was a lot more winded than I. He was huffing and puffing and had to sit down a lot. The tables had turned: at last I was more physically capable than my father.

I don’t feel great about this realization. Mostly I just feel sad. My dad’s going to die one day.