Since I was in my teens I’ve always had a fear of being old. I’ve never been afraid of death as much as getting old. I’m not sure I can exactly explain why but I think it has to do with loving life and in some way feeling like my chance is over when I die. I know this may or may not make sense theologically, but that is how I feel.
Donald Crowdis, the 93-year-old blogger of Don to Earth reminded me of some of those feelings in his post It Bothers Me I Have To Go. Here is part of what he says in that post: “I’ve floated on the remark “Been there, done that” for some time now, but the notion that the moment is approaching when I can no longer say this bothers me. The truth is, I don’t want to go. There are many reasons. For too long I have behaved as if I could postpone going indefinitely, and thus have so many things that I must do first. I don’t want my successors to find out how much I could have done that isn’t done, not by a long shot. There are numerous notes and letters I must write. There are places I’ve wanted to travel, but never had the chance. Actually, each of you can, if you think yourself into my age, fill out the list. At least you can try to understand why I say that I hate to go.”