The Loneliness of Old Age

" Grow old along with me! the best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made:" Rabbi ben Ezra by Robert Browning.

Sometimes things catch me unaware. I know 1974 was 50 years ago but this meme sort hit me hard, because it really felt like "just like that!" 

 

There was an article a while back, which of course I can't find now and the link below is not it, about how lonely centenarians feel. They may have friends, family, an active social life, yet there is an emptiness. Their peers have all died. They have buried both parents, a spouse, possibly a child, their siblings, several nieces and nephews, and too many friends and neighbors to count, longevity comes with a curse. It is the dull ache of loneliness — reflected in every framed family portrait; every personalized calendar; every faded snapshot stuck on the side of the fridge. All those people are gone, and they're still here.

It comes with the knowledge that for all they have experienced, there is no one left to share it with. Maybe that is the hardest part. The solitude of unshareable experience. My mother had couins that tipped the hundred, as did my father, one of whom is still alive. I wish I could sit down with her and ask about how she feels being so old.

I need another 23 years to hit 100. My FB friend Natalie and I have an agreement that when we hit the magic number we will tell people who ask the secret that we ate a pinecone every day for 40 years. 

The 70s were 50 years ago. The 60s were 60 years ago. Every time I listen to a song (and it is mostly when I listen to music) and realize it was 50 or 60 years ago that it was released, I feel lonely. Those were times that can never be repeated. Some of the people I knew then are still here but they too have changed.