by Jack
(Fictional story…written for my creative writing class at CSUC)
It’s Monday morning and I have an 8:30 doc appointment followed by 6 more, no make that 7 more… must do’s things written last night on piece of paper. My first break won’t come until the whole morning is long gone.
For many of us in retirement this is not an uncommon scenario. Somehow we wind up putting more on our calendar than we did when were actually working. Back then we had a scheduled, now it’s more like managed chaos…such is retirement.
When I was employed I arrived every day at a given time, worked two hours, qualified for a 15 minute break, then I worked for 2 more hours until lunch, followed by an afternoon schedule that was exactly the same as the morning schedule.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not in any way defending that routine, give me managed chaos any day, this is just a reflection on the [before] me and the me [now].
Here we go again, another fleeting day, that leads into another fleeting week, yadda, yadda…it seems that time accelerates exponentially with our advancing years.
On my way to the docs I’m left with my own thoughts… and I think back and wonder, for what great purpose in the scheme of things did I work away those decades of my life? Was it just to get the best space at the Seniors Only mobile home park?
As I wind my way through Philadelphia morning traffic and I wonder about this big question, why? Why are we here, what’s it all about? Was there any great meaning to the trials and tribulations of years shuffling paper? And now that I am retired, was it worth it? What’s the pay off?
For those of us who are lucky enough to have survived to this age we must have done something right therefore there must be some kind of reward equal to efforts, right? One troubling thought pops up. In this society our seniority doesn’t even get you a free cup of coffee. Elders and their hard won accumulated wisdom are more likely to invisible people meandering among the throngs of sparkling, brash newcomers. Granted that’s just my somewhat jaded view, but I’ve got more than anecdotal evidence to support it. Seniors really aren’t valued and that seems to be societies loss, another symptom to explain why things aren’t going as well as they could be.
8:34 a.m., I whip into the first available parking space. Had I been on the job and it was 8:35 and one second I would’ve been required by the rules to provide a verbal explanation to my immediate supervisor and he would have been required to place a notation in my personnel file that I had received a verbal counseling for a tardy, an asinine waste of time.
Walking in to a former real estate office converted to a medical office, I run through the check in process with the usual good morning salutations. I’m in the waiting room and the clock on the wall says 8:36. Why am I looking at a clock, I’m retired? Guess old habits are hard to break. There I am, back in my own thoughts, wondering if I’m the first patient what’s the hold up? It occurs to me, maybe the doctor is late? Ha, I smile covertly as I may have just rolled in under the tardy radar. A few more minutes pass and a young lady in scrubs directs me to another room where I’m seated on the ubiquitous medical bench in green vinyl accented by roll of hygienic white paper that looks like a wide roll of toilet paper, it crunches as I plop down. Unable to sit back or lay down, I lean forward, my legs dangle over the side like a kid in tall chair.
15 more minutes pass then my doctor enters the room and more routine salutations are exchanged. “So, how are you?” (He asks as he’s probably done with every patient, every day for, oh, I’m guessing, well over 30 years?) I have anticipated his perfunctory question and I was thinking over any number of funny answers, and I want to say, “Well, was abducted by aliens last week…” but I defer to, “Fine I guess.” I have to add the “I guess” part, because why should I presume to know I’m absolutely fine, e I’m not the doctor. And further, why would I be here if I were perfectly fine? I’m not fine, I’m dying, maybe not today, but some day. Actuarial charts say I have 12 years left.
We go through the traditional assessments, the blood pressure check, the stethoscope on the chest and again my thoughts turn back to that question of the day…why?
Hey, if anyone should have the answer, it ought to be my family doctor, he’s the guy sworn to protect and preserve life…he must have a clue?
I lead into this pending conversation by asking him if happened to read the Stanford Study on the declining intelligence of mankind? He hadn’t, but he’s interested. So proceed to I give him a brief synopsis. As our conversation evolves is broadens into the subtopics and I’m working around to asking the big one, why?
Possibly because it’s a slow morning we have a chance to talk a little more than usual. Good. And I comment we’re living longer, but are we living better? The answer is not really. We parry back and forth on this one until we not-so-coincidentally arrive at the [why]. My doctor pauses, chooses his words carefully and says, “Why indeed? That’s a good question!” I think, hey, that’s a cop out – I press for more.
The Stanford study says we peaked in our mental prowess about 2000 years ago and we’ve been on slow downhill drift ever since. America as a country probably peaked somewhere around the 1960’s. No more grand expansions, no more struggles to finish off railroads or the great freeways or eliminate racism by acts of law. We have, more or less, arrived at the big goals and now we’re resting, content to minimally manage our accomplishments as we reward ourselves with more leisure time. The great struggles of the empire are over. And just like Rome passing it’s heyday, it appears to me we’re now on the same path of decline.
We’re still talking, but my minds runs several moves ahead of the subject material. This decline leads me to think, maybe our whole reason for being is to conquer great adversities, adversaries and challenges of life because without them, what’s left to do, just more leisure time? Newton’s first law of motion says, “An object in motion is prone to stay in motion.” And when an object is not in motion it’s probably on welfare. Is this where we’re headed? I’m on social security, I draw a retirement check and I don’t work…that’s welfare and I have lots of leisure time! Before I freak myself out I rationalize, I do volunteer work now. So much of my time is dedicated to others. My new role is to volunteer, so I can stay in motion. (Hmmm…this hints at an answer to the big why )
Doc and I reach a tepip consensus that probably our highest goal and why we’re here is to contribute something back to society, so we all stay in motion. That sounds reasonable, it’s too bad the time doesn’t allow for more philosophizing on this because our conversation was just getting good! But, time’s up, and the big question still hangs there, why? Maybe some day we will have the answer, but for now I’ll have to be content with knowing enough just to ask the question. We’ll leave it there, unless you have the answer?
http://www.psychologytoday.com/collections/201112/the-big-question-why-are-we-here
http://io9.com/5960176/are-humans-getting-dumber
We have reached that age, haven’t we? And it does go by at lightening speed!
I find myself noticing that, gee, my kids are older than I was when I (fill in the blank). Ugh!
When we were young this time was so very far away. People who were forty were perceived as really “old”.
Now the ultimate end is just around the corner.
I feel fortunate to be retired and still working part time. A job lends purpose. I can’t imagine not having a place to go every day and I still love looking forward to the weekends…am I ready for a life of endless weekends?
In practical terms I guess we do the best we can to give life meaning at this age. We pay better attention to people and things we value. We see the futility in holding a grudge and can more genuinely appreciate simple pleasures. Life and nature force us to accept encroaching limitations no matter how much we resist and strive to hold on to the last bits of strength and grace we are granted. We indulge in moments of regret. We laugh at our own ineptitude. We realize there is really nothing but this moment and we hope for a few more someday’s. Does it matter…this why?
In spiritual terms I guess every individual must find his own way…but I didn’t sense that you intended to go there.
The problem with asking why is that it ultimately drives us crazy. It takes us to so much that we don’t know, can’t possibly know. Some of us discover faith; others put up stop signs digging ever more deeply into that maze of endless tunnels that always lead to yet another, “Ok, yes, but why?”
I say if the maze turns your crank then by all means pursue the science and philosophy, the worst that could happen is that you learn something and, in the process, …LOL…maybe stave off Alzheimer’s?
I prefer to ask “what”. This word leads to a much friendlier space and helps to keep me from running too far ahead…or plunging into yesterday…and sadness.
What things really matter to me? What can I contribute? What will bring me the greatest satisfaction? What mess do I need to clean up…with family or friends. And the inevitable…what the heck did I do with my glasses?
Hope everything turned out okay at the docs!