Ageing

Like all little boys, Alan couldn't wait for his birthday, to be a whole year older and get closer to being a grown up. When you're a grown up, they said, then you can do anything you want, they said. At six, Alan didn't completely understand it but the general idea of growing up exciting him and, like all impatient little six year olds, Alan wanted to grow up. The only problem being time.

It seemed to drag on and on. Each day felt like a whole week's worth of days and to a little boy, that was a lot of waiting. But, with time, he grew, went to high school, the raging hormones kicked in and he was caught up with the rest of the teenage crowd, doing things he'd surely regret later.

Once he'd passed his teenage years and was climbing through his twenties, Alan felt relieved to be rid of the hormones and have the rollercoaster of puberty behind him. Now, he had bigger worries than who was going to the football game or whether or not the girl who sat in the back row liked him or if that person who seemed nice was safe to talk to, if he wanted to go on not being teased or picked on. No, now Alan worried about he was going to do with his life. As a child, he'd changed his mind quite a bit. One week, he would be a doctor, the bext a policeman, the next a teacher and the next a champion sports star. Through his teenage years, the phases had lasted longer and he'd thought much more seriously about them. Even during his years at university, the rest of his life had seemed a long way off until suddenly one day, it hit him in the face, like someone had slapped him. And there he was, fast approaching his thirties with still not a clue.

From there, Alan went through all the usual motions, taking things day by day. He established his career, got married, had a family and not thinking much further then tommorow or next week as he watched his children, walking the same path of ageing that he had done, and was still doing, just as everyone.

About his mid to late forties was when Alan no longer liked the idea of growing up. Instead, he wanted to freeze time, even make himself immortal, not that that was possible. He wanted to stop right there and not age another day.

At 50, Alan started noticing the older couples walking in the park or out in town. There was one he remembered, walking by the sea shore, arm in arm. The man held a cane tightly in one hand and each step he took was shaky, as if he could fall flat on his face at any given moment. His wife meanwhile held a walker carefully as if her life depended on it, her shopping sitting in the front basket. She too looked fragile and vulnerable. It seemed that even the slightest change in the wind's course could knock her from her feet.

Alan shuddered to think that he might be like that one day. Age, they had told him, was just a number. Growing old didn't matter. 'The Golden Years' they called it. But watching the couple walking by the sea, it didn't seem to Alan anything close to 'the golden years'. He didn't fancy losing his memories, or getting arthritis. No, he didn't fancy getting closer to death or being sick all the time. Granted, not everyone aged that way, but some did and Alan's greatest fear was that we would be one of them.

Although, Alan realised that he'd led a great life, and by golly, it wasn't over yet. Even if he was getting older, he thought, so what? I can still have just as much fun as when I was 5 or 15 or even 42.