Last Tuesday I had my regular six month Doctor appointment. Six months is regulated by a failed thyroid – thus I have lab work and adjust the medication every six months, no big deal. This lady has been my Primary Care Person for many years and we have become close. When we have a visit she takes her unofficial break and we visit about life. I think of myself as a senior (75) – trying to delay elderly. She is middle aged and we talk about that sort of stuff, stuff like aging. I was never a fan of Alan Jackson until he announced he has the same neuron-muscular disease that I have. The Muscular Dystrophy Association recently added Charcot Marie Tooth (CMT) to their spectrum. Jackson and I both developed the disease later in life. Jackson recently announced he will stop performing because of the advancing symptoms. Today I reflect on what has been, what is, and what is to come.

Much of this is prompted by a call from my grandson Avery, who is in college in Wisconsin. He had an assignment to interview someone who had done volunteer work – I was honored that he called me. We talked for quite a while about my life. The conversation ended with me saying that volunteer work is great but as I reflect I realize that there were times when I was at City Hall or the YMCA when I should have been home helping my children with their homework. We hung up and I have not let go, still pondering, still reflecting.

My mother died two years ago. She was a month short of 100 years old. My father died at 85 from Kidney failure – but we always note that his kidneys were ruptured by the concussion of a bomb in Germany at the end of World War II. He had a lifetime military disability that he never talked about. His Purple Heart stayed in a drawer. He had siblings live into their nineties. I am saying that I have fortunate longevity genes. Because I have a genetic disease, CMT, three of my brothers and I have submitted our DNA to the Human Gnome Project that searches for mutations causing health problems. The brothers do not have the disease.

Aging, I’ve heard, is not for sissies. My overall health is great. My legs do not work below my knees and I wear braces to hold my feet straight and keep my ankles from buckling. Last spring I was building an addition to my garage and fell off a ladder onto concrete. I hit my head but I was lucky and my left shoulder broke the fall. The MRI diagnosis said ‘major rupture of the left rotator cuff’. The Orthopedic Surgeon said it could not be repaired. I did physical therapy for months and now have about 60% use of my left arm. I have one complete limb and it is 75 years old. I have had the emotional realization that death is imminent. Time is running out. I only have about 20 years left. And that brings me to the conversation with the Doctor.

Aging chips away at our ability to live in the manner we have become accustomed. We can adjust or we can whine around about almost everything. That is harsh. I put it this way because I sometimes get frustrated with my limitations. Emotionally it can be worse than that. I have held on to hopes and dreams. I wanted buy a sail boat and cross the Atlantic. I wanted to build my own cabin on a lake. There are more books to read than there is time left. I do not yet understand some advanced science. I wrote three novels but have not written that one really good novel. I have only read about 15 of 100 books by Jungian Analysts. I am only an elementary student of Dostoevsky and Nietzsche. There is so much in this world that fascinates me. My Doctor friend said, “Well, what can you do?” The older I get the more I have to stay focused on the positive. Some say that gratitude and attitude rhyme for a reason. I have always been a lucky person. I was blessed with a fondness for reading and a natural curiosity. At 75 I still retain and process information pretty well (relative to our last two Presidents). My hand grip is weak because of CMT but fortunately someone invented things like pliers and clamps that multiply grip strength.

I reflect on life. I was a runner, lifted weights, was a master with a jump rope, played competitive racquetball, was a Master Swimmer for the YMCA. I hiked ten fourteeners in Colorado and rafted the Colorado River for 20 days and 225 miles in the Grand Canyon. I gutted and restored a two story house and have built two free standing buildings. I have three thousand books in my personal library. And none of this had anything to do with my work career. I was blessed with two separate careers – one in science and finance and one in the humanities. Along the way I had three children, 10 grandchildren, and five great grandchildren with more coming. My volunteer civic work spanned fifty years. But this is all past. What am I to make of the future? How does one adapt mentally and emotionally to a body that is failing?

I am blessed to be a human in the 21st Century. I have glasses for failing sight, braces for failing legs, pliers for failing hands. Other creatures get old and just falter and fail. Over the centuries humans have invented all sorts of devices that prolong and add value to our aging bodies. I have this computer to enable communications with family and friends. This computer allows me access to a world of information. Technology provides many new videos on advanced math and science – I am understanding calculus in ways previously foreign to me.

Julie and I have a pottery studio in the basement. It is about 800 square feet. We have two wheels and an electric kiln and most of the accessories. I have two outbuildings where I can do woodworking, forging, welding, and smelting. We have a nice vegetable garden with a variety of herbs (Julie was sitting beside me a while ago putting the dried herbs in jars for the winter). We have flower gardens and trees a a nice patio for smoking ribs and enjoying a fire pit. Yesterday I donated a box of books to Habitat because I am running out of room. We travel about four or five times a year.

It is easy to talk about good things, happy things, joyful, fulfilling things. Jackson sings that he would not take a drop from the fountain of youth. I get it. What would I change? I think it is obvious from this essay that my life has been blessed. I have always been lucky. There has been more than one occasion where I tried as hard as possible to derail everything good in my life. One of my brothers once told me that every time I fall into a bucket of manure I come out smelling like roses. I told you I am lucky. Remember that my Doctor and I are talking about life and health – physical and mental.

There are regrets and resentments and plain old disgust. Some at myself and some at others. Alan Jackson is not the first to sing about life, about aging, about regrets, about hope, or about despair. I know one or two people who honestly say, “I would not change a thing”. Life keeps coming at us. It is relentless with hope and despair. Paul McCartney captured the essence of regret:

The Jungian analyst Robert Johnson writes of three stages of life, the simple, the complex, and finally enlightenment. Simple people invent imaginary problems to work on. Complex people “…ponder the imponderables of fate and destiny”. Enlightened people – I am trying to get there – have faced truth about life and themselves and have resolved to accept the stew, the elixir of life, the spices of experience blended with the heavy chunks of great joy and great sadness. Good decisions and bad, fate and destiny, prosperity and famine, mixed in the heat of maturity and pressure of responsibility combine to create who we become, the older we get.

Glen Campbell captured the essence of the simple man who had just advanced to the complex stage of actually looking honestly at oneself. His song reveals the guilt and shame of regrettable choices.

Johnson, the Jungian analyst, would say that we have to go through this process described by Glen Campbell to achieve enlightenment. To simply run away, the make a geographical change, to distance oneself is not the end in itself. To achieve enlightenment we must face life – honestly. This does not mean with cruel shame – it means simply acknowledging and accepting the frailty of self along with the frailty of others.

My life goes on. I have no control over others. Accepting my limitations, surrendering to fate, has been one of my greatest challenges. One brother died in a motorcycle accident. A grandson committed suicide. Another brother died too young from smoking induced respiratory problems. Many of my classmates from high school have passed. I was walking through the hardware store the other day when some old man stopped me and asked if I was Gary. Yes, I said. “I’m Steve….” Oh yeah, I remember. We went to high school together. He had a grandson with him. We talked a while and neither of us complained about our age – he actually looks pretty good. I was really happy he stopped me. It felt really good to visit with a fellow time traveler.

I cannot write a conclusion because I am not done. I hope to read and write and be creative with literature and art. I hope to continue participating in my community as a volunteer. I presently sit on one Board and one City Commission. I hope to continue my rebellious acts of defiance with a government that is off the rails. I look forward to future “No Kings” protests – it tickles me that I can still be counted as a warm body on a quest for social justice.

I seek enlightenment. I hope for the future.

Thanks to my health care professional and to my grandson in Wisconsin for helping me on my journey.