16 May 2016
Chuck Roots
Elvis is Dead
I’m not sure when the saying emerged
in the American lexicon of idiomatic expressions, but it obviously was after
Elvis Presley passed from this earthly existence. The expression goes like
this: “Elvis is dead, and I don’t feel so well myself.”
This
phrase referencing Elvis popped into my head because I am of an age where there
are way fewer years ahead of me than there are behind me. In three months I
will be celebrating my 68th birthday. One of the observances I’ve
made is that when guys are together we try to figure out the pecking order, all
based on age. Because a significant number of the men I play golf with are
senior to me in age I often hear remarks like, “You’re only 67? You’re still a
puppy!” Now, I will grant you that such a comment about being a “puppy” is a
bit of hyperbole, to be sure. My grandkids certainly don’t think I’m as young
as a puppy. Just ask them!
Another
aspect of this business of growing older (which is not necessarily the same
thing as growing old) is the way in which a person handles the hurdles which
seem to be more daunting as we hit certain decades of life. For instance, why
do I feel as though I’m still in my 20s on some days, and then on other days I
feel much more like the cumulative effect of life’s twists and turns have collaborated
against me. I used to enjoy a good workout lifting weights in the gym. I don’t
go to a gym anymore, but I have a workout area in my garage with the basics for
lifting weights. The siren song of the bench press beckons me, reminding me of
the time when I could push some serious weight. “You still benched 300 pounds
when you were only 50,” I hear in my head. Then there’s my favorite exercise –
the Preacher Curls. This is a physical exercise that will make your biceps pop,
all while curling a barbell in the position that looks a lot like someone in
prayer, thus, the name Preacher Curls. But alas! I find myself devolving into
the abyss of becoming sluggardly. The weights sit patiently on the rubber inter-locked
mats on the garage floor, not the least bit affected by my absence.
Since
golf is one of the few active sports men in middle age and beyond can still
reasonably participate in, we who chase the “little white ball” are often heard
lamenting a poor shot, accusing the golf gods of conniving against us. Golf,
for instance, has many names, a fair number of which are not repeatable in this
article. But one of my favorite names for the game of golf is, “If Only.” It
goes something like this: “I hit the ball really well, if only that tree hadn’t
been in the way.” Or, “I would have parred that hole, if only I hadn’t hit the
ball out of bounds on my tee shot.”
But
the aspect of getting older that seems to be part of the “right of passage” is
when we seniors naturally ask each other how we’re doing. We can share with
each other the innumerable ills that have been ailing us and never give it a
second thought. I used to chuckle to myself quietly when I was younger, hearing
older people talking about their maladies. I would shake my head and say to
myself, “You are never going to do that, Roots!” And those, my friends, are
what are called, “Famous last words.”
One-upmanship
is rampant among us seniors. We are quick to look for a window of opportunity
where we can gain a feeling of superiority over another person. It goes
something like this, which I am certainly guilty of engaging in: Joe, bragging
a bit, says he has three stents in his heart, pushing his chest out for
emphasis, only to have me come back with, “Oh yeah? Well I have eight stents in
my heart!” This is always a winner because I haven’t met anyone with nearly so
many stents. Such braggadocios behavior is common when comparing our ever
increasing physical shortcomings.
Something
else I’ve realized on this runaway freight train called life is a truism which
my wife’s Portuguese heritage singularly identified in a colloquialism. This
Portuguese saying nails it! “If you manage to live long enough, you become a
child twice.” Think about it! How many older people have you known who become
boorish and insolent as they advance in age? They may well be petulant and
demanding, causing strife and discord within the family. Here again, we may
have found ourselves saying we’d never become like that. The closer we come to
this age bracket, the more we temper our concerns about such childish behavior.
“I sure hope I don’t become like that,” we might catch ourselves saying. The
rest of us hope not either.
Then
lastly, the final thought on this aging thing for this article is the idiomatic
expression, “Growing old isn’t for sissies!” or some variation on that theme.
It’s true. The body doesn’t respond as well as it once did. Aches and pains
come to life seemingly from thin air. Naps are a welcome respite. The person in
the mirror looks shockingly like your grandparent. People offer to help you,
and you feel mildly insulted. And the kicker in all of this is you’re spending
a lot of time visiting friends in the hospital. And funerals are now just a part
of your life. You look around and wonder how many people will take the time to
attend your funeral. Sobering!
Despite
the challenges associated with aging, the good news is life as we know it is
not the end. Jesus has invited us to receive new bodies which he personally
will outfit for anyone who trusts in him. Jesus has also declared boldly that
he has gone to heaven to prepare a place for that person who has experienced
forgiveness for sin.
Just
remember: all this earthly stuff is temporary, transitory. Heaven, God’s home,
is eternal, a forever place to live with him. “God will wipe every tear from
their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the
old order of things has passed away.” To which I say, Hallelujah!
No comments:
Post a Comment