Don't Let The Old Man (Woman) In
Alenda (my wife) often recites a phrase that she claims my father used to say in his later years: “Don’t let the old man in!” She interprets this as a call to not concede to old age before it’s necessary and to keep doing as much as possible for as long as you can. I don’t remember him saying this, but then again, there are more and more things I can’t recall. Perhaps that in itself is a sign of conceding to the aging process.
Despite not recalling him using these words, I agree with them, and so does Alenda. It’s worth noting another quote from a friend who described retirement as a process of “go-go, slow-go, no-go,” illustrating the decline in activity that often accompanies aging. Now, in our eleventh year of retirement from full-time work, we feel blessed; these have been busy years filled with travel, home improvements, time with our grandchildren, and, for me, significant part-time work. Plain relaxation has also been a large part of the picture.
As I write this once again from our shore home, I am aware that the above sentiment came into play yesterday. We are blessed that our extended family owns two jet skis, which provide us with fun and adventure as we explore the back bays near our home, marveling at the variety of God’s creation (nature) alongside man’s creation (homes and boats). I often find myself overwhelmed by the stark disparities in wealth evident in our society, but that’s a topic for another day.
Using the jet skis presents one challenge. We store them on small floating docks during the summer season. To place them on the dock, you must steer the jet ski into position right in front of the dock and then “gun” the engine, which causes the jet ski to leap forward onto the dock. This requires a certain level of skill; if the engine isn’t revved enough, the jet ski only makes it halfway before rolling back into the water. Conversely, if you gun it too much, the jet ski might overshoot and land on the front post, risking damage to the hull. The presence of family and other observers adds to the pressure.
Alenda and I wanted to go out together but were both a bit apprehensive about the docking process. Alenda was also aware of her recent recovery from a nasty bout of diverticulitis, making her feel a bit timid about anything outside of the routine. Nevertheless, we put on our “big-boy and girl” pants and ventured out. We had a wonderful time, although the aging process did tap on our shoulders at one point when we got lost in the back bay, and my machine began to run low on gas. Upon our return, I managed to successfully dock the jet ski—albeit on my third attempt—with a little coaching from our nephew, Mark. I take a bit of pleasure in having kept the old man at bay on this particular issue, at least for now.
