Who wants to be reminded about getting old? We all know that everyone, even a little baby starts growing old once he is born. The younger generation thinks that the old ‘f***s’ don’t know anything. The older people think we are experienced, and we know and have seen everything. We should teach these young whippersnappers a thing or two, so that they realize their mistakes.
But truly, do the old people know everything? If they did, they have forgotten most of their lessons which they learned in their teenage years. What they remember, is probably what they learned or were taught when they were little children. They start behaving like little kids. We are reminded in the Holy Quran, time and again that man goes through two phases of childhood, once when he is little, and the other when he has become senile.
Where am I going with this?
I know a man, actually, I know a lot of men heh heh! So, this man, is in his mid-eighties. A fine gentleman, and his wife is just as fine a lady as they come. He is a thinker. She is a do-er. She is constantly busy in her home and is either knitting or sewing or dusting very old pieces of furniture, and she sings to herself while she does these sundry things. The man, he sits and thinks. I ask him sometimes what he is thinking about, and he says, “Doc, I am thinking about life”
What about it, I ask.
He shrugs his shoulder and says “oh just about everything. I think about the world, about the wars, about the grass that sprouts out of a stone, or the way water flows on in a river and how you cannot touch it twice in the same spot.” He philosophizes.
I tell him to write down his thoughts, and he says, “I don’t have time for that!” I laugh at this logic of his.
But seriously, I have read somewhere that people who sit and brood and ruminate, have a more satisfied life. Can that be true? It has to be, because this couple is so self-sufficient and so happy just to be alone by themselves. When the wife sits down eventually, he is so attentive to her, holding her hand, and asking after her aches and pains and wants to know if he could fix a sandwich for her.
I love visiting them.
Then I come home, go into my garden, fill the five bird feeders and the water bath, and water the plants, and after sweating like a horse, I come inside the home and sit down with a glass of ice cold water; I see the Man sitting with his smart phone, staring at it.
What are you doing? I ask.
Oh nothing, just thinking! He says.
I have a glimmer of hope in my heart.
Oh yeah? What are/were you thinking about? And he replies
I was wondering what you were going to make for dinner tonight, and if it would rain in the night, and if it did, then I won’t be able to play golf, so I might have to go and do my exercise at the studio instead. He purses his lips and says, “That’s what I was thinking.”
And suddenly he asks, do you think you could give a piece of the cake that you made last night? You don’t have to get up right away to do it, (how thoughtful), just when you are done with your glass of water. I sure could use a bit of something sweet right now.
I don’t think he liked the ice cold water on his head, which I “accidentally” spilled!!
Old age what a genre of farce!