Growing old ain't so bad, after all.

Self-doubt. Maybe that’s the worst thing about growing old. One loses confidence. About being able to do certain things. Physically. Mentally. Yes, losing skills that one used to handle adeptly. But I’m learning. Not to push the panic button.  To adapt. To compensate.  To be more wily. Essentially, it comes to slowing down. And accepting the facts of life. I panicked. When I turned 40. Oh, not to a high degree. Never really had a mid-life crisis. And now I’ve panicked again. At 80. In a different way. By momentarily wishing I was 40 again. The good thing. I’ve brought the panic under control. Maybe because I have no choice. Because I have a strong desire. To milk every last ounce out of life. One way or another.  I have to be more creative. More imaginative. More accepting. And most of all. To not be afraid of where I’m headed. Yes, not to be fearful. Even when almost every one around me is pushing the panic button. Because they’ve been brain-washed. By the media. By politicians. That the world is going to hell. Right here in America. We are being sold a bill of goods. That maybe World War III is just around the corner. That it’s the fault of bad guys. Of a religion that has gone awry. Completely berserk. But I, for one, don’t accept all this fearful stuff. No, it ain’t Armageddon. One thing I’ve learned. After 80 years of living. And observing. That I’m still in love. With life. Every night. I go to sleep. In love. And I wake. Still in love. That helps me erase any self-doubt. About growing old. --Jim Broede