Tag Archives: growing old

Getting Old Doesn’t Always Suck

“You’re going to have to start respecting your age.”

“Never let an old man in your body.”

Two different responses from two different people when they looked at the cast on my right arm and asked what had happened.

No, it ain’t me – at least not yet!

I’d hiked into one of our mountain lakes looking forward to a couple of hours of fly fishing and relaxation. I’d been hopping from log to log along the shoreline like a man in his 30s, not his 60s, seeking a little extra casting room. Suddenly one of the logs rolled out from under me. As I fell, I stuck out my right hand to break my fall. My glasses went in the drink along with my hat and cell phone. I broke my right wrist, but at least I didn’t break my $500 fly rod, which I held high above my head in my left hand. The water was only a foot or so deep next to shore, so it was easy to retrieve my glasses and cell phone. I used the tip of the fly rod to hook my hat, which was merrily drifting away. So much for a couple of hours of fly fishing and relaxation.

The end game was a hike back to my truck, and a trip to the doctor to get an X-ray which confirmed the break. But this post isn’t really about a broken wrist. This post is about the joys of being old.

I’d been kind of moaning about getting older and not able to do some of the things I used to do, such as hopping from log to log. But rather than feel sorry for myself, I decided to focus on the benefits of getting old, of which there are many. Here are a few—

  • Most days I don’t have to set an alarm clock,
  • I can sleep when I’m tired,
  • I can eat when I’m hungry,
  • I can go fishing during the week when everyone else is working,
  • And speaking of working, I work part time because I want to not because I have to,
  • I can have an extra cookie and nobody says a word, ‘cause I’m old and fat anyway.
  • Senior discounts!

On the downside, I’m slower on the trail than I used to be. But if the day comes when I can’t hike anymore, I’ll find something else to do like climb aboard a drift boat. It’s called “adapting”. And that broken wrist? It sure didn’t keep me from fly fishing, and it had a good side. The cast on my right arm held my wrist stiff, so I stopped flexing my wrist when fly casting.

What about you? Can you think of any benefits of getting old?

 But wait, there’s more! (I’m being facetious of course, but there really is more). You can comment by clicking “leave a comment” under the title of this post, send me an e-mail, or even subscribe to my blog.

Reminisce or Live?

By Mike Raether

Do you like to daydream? I caught myself daydreaming at my desk

Entrance to Friday Harbor, San Juan Island, Washington State
Entrance to Friday Harbor, San Juan Island, Washington State

recently, or rather, reminiscing on some past pleasures of my life. I smiled as I remembered when I had a boat, a 24’ cabin cruiser aboard which I spent many lovely days plying the protected bays and harbors of the San Juan Islands of Washington State. Ah! Those were the days! I thought to myself, missing the sea something awful now that I live hundreds of miles away in the mountains of Montana.

About that time an alarm went off in my head.

“Self,” I said to myself, “What are you doing living in the past?”

There is danger hidden in some memories. A memory can be an insidious enemy that drifts lightly into our minds, enchanting us like a feather floating on the wind, all the while robbing us of the present and the future. We can get so caught up in memories that we forget to live in the present, and sometimes even pass on the future. We can become like old men feeding pigeons in a park, mindlessly passing time until death draws a curtain over life.

I do cherish my memories, especially as I’m now in my sixth decade of life. I’ve been a lot of places, seen a lot of things, and done a lot of

Road to Somewhere
Road to Somewhere

stuff. I think I’ve lived well, and would have few regrets should I receive a bad report from my doctor. But I’ve come to realize that there’s a whole lot of livin’ left to be done. And life may have saved the best for last.

I write mostly to my older readers today, who like me are standing in the shadow of mortality. Far gone are the days of youth when I thought I was bullet-proof. My body howls at the things I demand of it. If I take a six-mile hike, I’ll pay for three days (although I’ll do it anyway). I used to survive on five or six hours of sleep a night and brag about it, but now eight hours of solid sleep is one of life’s great treasures. And so it’s tempting to fold my hands in rest, leave the mountains of life to the young bucks, and toss a few crumbs to the pigeons. Until the challenge of what yet may be serves up a better plate than that of stale, past pursuits. Until I think of what can be, what should be, what must be.

I’m reminded of those who accomplished great things in the Indian summer of life.

At 60, playwright and essayist George Bernard Shaw completed the play, Heartbreak House, thought of by many as his masterpiece.

At 70, Benjamin Franklin helped draft the Declaration of Independence.

At 80, British-American actress Jessica Tandy became the oldest person to receive an Oscar for her performance in Driving Miss Daisy.

In his 80s, the Biblical patriarch Caleb sought permission to make his home in the hill country of the Promised Land, where the enemy still held strongholds. “Perhaps God will be with me,” he said, “And I’ll drive them out.”

“Perhaps…” Perhaps is a good word. The 16th century French Renaissance writer Francois Rabelais once said, “I go to seek a great perhaps.”

What is your “great perhaps”? What would you attempt if “perhaps”? What would you try? Why not find out? Beats feeding pigeons in the park.

Grow old along with me!

The best is yet to be,

The last of life,

For which the first was made.

(Robert Browning).

But wait, there’s more! (I’m being facetious, but there really is more). I’m interested in your thoughts. You can send me an email, post a comment right here online and more –