"It's tough getting old."

This morning I took my 3-year-old to the pool. While we were swimming an elderly couple showed up. They were probably in their mid-70's. The man sees B swimming and says to his wife, "you know what? I can remember when *he said the names of 2 of his children* were that little, but I don't remember when *another child's name* was that little. Isn't that sad?" His wife replies, "yes dear, that is sad." This lead into a conversation/argument about when each child was born. Was their oldest born in '57 or '58? Listening to them was like listening to my grandparents argue about where my aunt took them out to eat the week before. It is hard to imagine not being able to remember what year B was born or how old she is. I guess it is a little bit harder when you have 3 children, especially if now you have grandchildren's birthdays to remember as well. This conversation turned into the man reminiscing about when his children were young and how now they are getting "old". He made the statement, "it's tough getting old." His wife laughed and said, "why do you think you need to tell me that?" I thought to myself, getting old must really be tough. In class we were told to picture ourselves at 75, I couldn't. I can't even picture myself at 40. I look around at all the residents/patients out on FW. It must be tough having to share a room with a stranger, not be able to get to the bath room by yourself, not always remember who people are. Now this doesn't happen to all elderly people. My grandparents are 83 and 87. For the most part they are doing good but it must be tough having to take so many different medications and go to the doctor every few months. I know that it is tough on them that they can't make the 2.5 hour drive to visit my family. It is tough that my grandmother can't pick up my daughter and that my grandfather can't carry her around on her shoulders. They were able to do these things with me. But what can you do? I think you just have to accept it. Everyone gets older. Everyone goes through the primary changes. The secondary changes just make it that much tougher.

I have provided a link to a website when people have submitted poems about getting older. This is one that touches on my topic:

What is pain?-Kathleen B. Hagen
"Pain is watching yourself fade into a helpless person
Pain is not being able to do what you did yesterday
Pain is not remembering what you did and why or where you bought things
Pain is not being able to see the flowers or the children on the other side of the room
Pain is not remembering your children’s birthdays
Pain is not remembering your grandchildren’s birthdays
Pain is knowing tomorrow will be worse
Pain is knowing it will never get better
Pain is waiting for the end of all the pain
Pain is not being able to do things on your own
Pain is not being able to walk as far as you want
Small pain is the pain you feel in your legs, back and arms
Relief is when you won't care anymore
I pray for my relief!
To my family and friends please think of this
At the time that this disease takes over remember this please
My pain will be gone finally!"

Just FYI, the poems on this website are really sad and will make you want to call your grandparents or parents or just another elderly person that you know.