Dear 19-year-old-me,
Last night I played softball for the first time in several years. It wasn’t pretty. And a friend who’s only slightly older than me went down hard with a pulled hamstring. I was not so unfortunate, although my hamstrings are screaming at me today. Which reminds me, who decided to call them hamstrings? I always picture a bunch of pigs playing stringed instruments when I hear that word—like a piggy string ensemble.
Today I had to take several headshots for some upcoming events. When I had the chance to review them, I was not pleased. I looked old and chubby. What happened to you, 19-year-old-me? When did these wrinkles around my eyes become so pronounced? When did my gut start poking out? When did hair start growing out of my ears and nose at a breakneck speed? When did I start grunting every time I stand up?
When did YOU become ME?
Last week I started performing interviews for an assistant. When did I become a professional, conducting interviews and searching for assistants? When did life creep up on me? When did I cross the line from boydom to manhood? It all apparently happened while I was sleeping, unbeknownst to me.
I thought I was still you, 19-year-old-me. But I’m not you anymore. Now I’m me. And I really, really, miss you. I miss your smooth, unwrinkled face and fluid joints. I miss your ability to eat everything and not gain a pound. I miss your hairless nose and ears. Makes me wonder what else happened while I was sleeping. Have I shrunk a couple inches? Did my IQ drop? If so, HOW WOULD I EVER KNOW?!?!?!? Have my fingernails stopped growing? Do I no longer love duck-billed platypuses? (We can safely rule that one out. I still love them.) This whole aging thing is scary.
So, how does one age gracefully? Seems like it’s an impossibility to me. An improbable equation. I will most definitely not be aging gracefully, but maybe you can. I will go down into the annals of life kicking and screaming. Of course, it probably won’t last long because I’m sure as I kick I will pull a hamstring while an ensemble of pigs plays Beethoven in the background. But I won’t be able to hear them. My hearing will be gone by then.
Aging Disgracefully,
Almost-34-year-old-you
That pig ensembles classy
Dear 34 year old Darren,
I took your class at the assembly this summer, and accidently almost bumped into you in the hall as we were hurrying somewhere in opposite directions. I didn’t notice your wrinkes, but your countenance, demeanor, sense of humor and smile. I mean, you don’t glow like Moses, but there’s obviously something there.
Some old wise person once told me that every wrinkle and scar was something we earned through successfully overcoming in a battle or test. We age gracefully, by keeping our eyes on Jesus and not on ourselves.
Not quite twice your age, but remembering when I was 34 and had less wrinkles, and more energy,
BL
Thank you Bonnie! I appreciate that encouraging word.
I hope I’m as agile and spry when I turn 34 as you are!
I’m sure you will be, DeWayne. I’m sure you will be.
Darren, I think you’re perfect but you forgot to mention your bald spot!
What bald spot?
I think you’ve got a few good years left! Remember my dad is still playing ball in his 70’s and my mom still believes she is 19!
Your dad drinks from the fountain of youth.
Hmmm, I thought the term to be platypi…guess I shouldn’t trust cartoon characters!
-Laura
I actually did some research, and platupuses is the more appropriate term, shockingly.
Are you really just almost 34?
Do I seem older than that? October 18!!!! I accept any and all gifts (particularly in monetary form).