for Old Men

Wendell: That's very linear Sheriff.
Sheriff Ed Tom Bell: Well, age will flatten a man.

― Cormac McCarthy, No Country for Old Men

Old Joe Biden is working to overcome the fact that he's old. The guy that's highlighting the fact that Joe's no spring chicken is none other than old TrumpleOrangeSkin himself, arguably the most un-selfaware person on the planet.

I'm old too. Not as old as either of them, but I'm not running for president. In fact, I'm not running much at all; unless you count running from old age. It's not that I'm in denial (would I know it if I wasn't?), I just enjoy living in the past.

Past. Present. Future. Your most basic timeline of life. I'm not a fan of a linear view of life, however. Maybe it's because the Past part of my timeline takes up the most space by far these days and expands by the minute. Our youngest Grand-Guy, "J", spent the night with us recently along with his older brother. J's Past section is very short, only four years. In his mind it's even shorter. For the most part, any time he is telling you a story from the past, he starts with, "Last night..." As in: "Last night my sister broke my arm." "Last night I caught a little fish and my Daddy wanted me to kiss it."

Using that little time trick to shorten my Past section wouldn't work for me. I tend to remember 1968 better than I remember Last Night. I should begin my reminiscenses with, "Back in the 1900s...

Sometimes I worry that I'm wasting the Present section worrying about the Future section. A sample: What if Trump is elected to a second term? What if he's not? Will he incite a civil war? Have I saved enough to get us through our retirement years with a little something left for the kids? Will there be a church, a church grounded in the love and grace and seeking the example of Christ, instead of one that's tied to politics where people believe that our Hope rests in filling government with people who call themselves Republican, mistakenly assuming that brand is synonymous with integrity, good judgement, good character and Christ-following. A church where my grandkids learn the value of honesty, honor and humility, where they will be able to raise their kids and grow old. Will the transfer portal and sports betting ruin college sports? Will I get hit by a car while riding my bicycle? etc.

A straight timeline is not really how I view life. I have vivid memories and enjoy recounting events of my life, both big and little, but I don't think of them as happening along a line. There are set backs, detours, u-turns. I do remember a few dates along a line: my birthday, the year I graduated from high school, our anniversary and My Amazing-Missus' birthday. I know Christmas Day is 12/25, New Years Day is 1/1, The Fourth of July is the fourth of July and Cinco de Mayo is May 5. Other than that I just don't remember dates. It's not a cognitive deficiency, that's just not the way I recount life. Now, My Amazing-Missus on the other hand remembers the date of every significant event. She can tell you the birthday of our entire extended family and if she knows you at all she knows your birthday too. I don't have that gift, and since June 16,1972, she has questioned just why on God's green and warming earth I've never been able to remember my own mother's birthday.

Here at seventy-something on the timeline, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I'm feeling non-youth-like. I hate to type this out loud for fear of bringing karma down on myself, but so far: I have my own teeth (cleaned and checked every 6 months), no hearing aids, although some may think I'm not listening sometimes. I can still sort and fill my own pill case. The vision isn't what it once was, but I can still see down the future side of the timeline a bit. Still; I have to go to way too many doctor's appointments--the routine follow-up kinds of stuff. I think the situation is that they have my Medicare number and they're not afraid to use it to send a big bill through for these check ups. I know I'm old because I get hugely annoyed when I have to sit for an hour or so in a waiting room, to go in a little room to be poked around on for three or four minutes and told to see the lady on the way out, "Make sure she has your medicare and supplement card and make a follow-up appointment for next year's poking and prodding session."

I was going to write a particularly pithy sentence, but I've lost my train of thought. More often not, the train goes into a tunnel and comes out on a different track. But, I could still beat a "very stable genius" on a cognitive test any day of the week or at any point along the timeline.