Setting sun painting the sky red with birds in formation flying back towards their nest. Walking towards the sunset is an illusion that you never achieve, but the feeling is incomparable.
Except when this sunset is for real and you know you will never see another sun rise again.
An illusion that catches up with most of us at time or another. Why the disdain? Why the indifference? Why the hurt?
My grandpa turns 94 the next year and I pray that he stay healthy to celebrate his centennial but as days pass I see him look around in wonder. Wondering whether this is the same family he has lived with the past 93 and odd years. All his peers have moved on to the other side. The world around him has changed.
No longer is he master of all that he surveys. No longer is he master of his destiny. No longer is he master of himself.
Though he doesn’t suffer from alzheimer’s his memory is not what he would like it to be. It is easier for him to recollect his youth, when he took part in the freedom struggle and when he was thrown into jail; when he lost all his land to the Land Ceiling Act and the reminder he gave away to the people who served him; when he married my grandma spurning a much richer woman for love; when breakfast cost him half an anna and a movie on Mount Road meant the latest English western……But ask him, what he did the whole day and he would be hard pressed to recount it activity for activity.
This man, who has been my protector, now has me protecting him and guarding him fiercely against the ridicule of youth and the disdain of familitude.
Why are we afraid of old age? Why do we resist growing old? Why is a natural progression fiercely resisted?