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Coping with Old Age
I recently read about an area of the former Soviet Union where many people live to be well over a hundred years old. Being 115 or ever 125 isn’t considered unusual there, and these old people continue to do productive work right up until they die. The United States, however, isn’t such a healthy place for older people. Since I retired from my job, I’ve had to cope with the physical, mental, and emotional stresses of being “old”. For only thing, I’ve had to adjust to physical changes. Now that I am over sixty, the trusty body that carried me around for years has turned traitor. Aside from the deepening wrinkles on my face and neck, and the wiry gray hairs that have replaced my brown hair, I face more frightening changes. I don’t have the energy I used to. My eyes get tired. Once in a while, I miss something that’s said to me. My once faithful feet seem to have lost their comfortable soles, and I sometimes feel I am walking on marbles. In order to find against this slow decay, I exercise whenever I can. I walk, I stretch, and I climb stairs. I battle constantly to keep as fit as possible. I am also trying to cope with mental changes. My mind was once as quick and sure as a champion gymnast. I never found it difficult to memorize answers in school or to remember the names of people I met. Now, I occasionally
have to search my mind for the name of a close neighbor or favorite television show. Because my mind needs exercise, too, I challenge it as much as I can. Taking a college course like this English class, for example, forces my to concentrate. The mental gymnast may be a little slow and out of shape, but he can still do a back flip or turn a somersault when he has to. Finally, I must deal with the emotional impact of being old. Our society typecasts old people. We’re supposed to be unattractive, senile, useless leftovers. We’re supposed to be the craze drivers and the cranky customers. At first, I was angry and frustrated that I was considered old at all. And I knew that people were wrong to stereotype me. Then I got depressed. I even started to think that maybe I was cast-off, one of those old animals that slow down the rest of the herd. But I have now decided to rebel against these negative feelings. I try to have friends of all ages and to keep up with what’s going on in the world. I try to remember that I’m still the same person who sat at a first-grade desk, who fell in love, who comforted a child, who got a raise at work. I am not “just” an old person. Coping with the changes of old age has become my latest full-time job. Even though it’s a job I never applied for, and one for which I had no experience, I’m trying to do the best I can.
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