An e-mail from a friend in Manila made me pause and deliberate on a matter that to her was urgent and of grave importance. I imagine that the recent spate of writings about depression got her started on a fresh and new worry, a never-before-seen wrinkle if you will, in the otherwise peaceful and smooth run of events in her life as a senior.
This friend, I have strongly suspected for some time now, loves to worry.
I must confess that I, too, have had these morbid thoughts. Why deny it? These are the phantoms and shadows I sometimes meet in the middle of the night.
But we don’t party. I don’t entertain them long enough to turn maudlin. It has been a while since I last wasted any time on thoughts of my own mortality. Why bother? It is what it is. Why ponder the inevitable?
Depression
I had not spent too much time on the subject, at least not until her e-mail arrived. After the usual greetings of “Hola Chica, que tal?” she cut to the chase. All in caps she asked: “Tell me the truth. Is the fear of being old and dying a sign of depression?”
I wanted to tell her that dwelling on the subject would take her there sooner than later. I normally reply right away, but this time I scrolled back and read the e-mail again.
She continued: “I can’t stop thinking of ‘the day’ that ‘it’ happens. Sometimes I don’t sleep at night, I am so worried. There are still so many things to do.”
This time my heart replied. “Go ahead and do them. What’s stopping you? What are you waiting for? What are you afraid of?”
In the words of Mark Twain: “The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die any time.”
Why do we put off doing something while we wait for a better time? Where is that “better time?” Will it ever come? Or is “a better time” just a cop-out?
There is no time like the present, folks. All we’ve really got is right now.
When I think of the many opportunities throughout my life that I let slip away, I am filled with remorse, and sometimes even a bit of self-loathing. What was I thinking?
Regrettable steps
Today I remember sins of omission; obstacles I should and could have hurdled, the times I could have gone forward and instead gave up and turned back; and those regrettable misguided steps I took when I knew in my heart that it was best to just stand still or run away. How many times did I ignore that still small voice?
And in the middle of this self-flagellation, I remember the words of one very wise and loving pastor in Hawaii who one day took me aside and said: “Enough already! No more feeling sorry for yourself, sistah. Stop living in the past. That’s all gone, dead and buried. We have all fallen short. What matters is that we learn. We pick ourselves up and take our scars back into the arena. There is a race to be run and we must give it everything we’ve got.”
Another island friend posted words by Ernest Hemingway on Facebook. “The world breaks everyone, and afterward some are stronger in the broken places.”
The fear of death is universal. I don’t know anyone, anywhere, at any age that has not wondered about when and how it will happen. I know many people who go to bed anxious about its maybe overtaking them in the middle of the night.
I want to ask: “Will thinking and fretting about it delay, avoid, cancel or destroy the chances of ‘it’ ever happening? We all know the answer. So, like Mad Magazine I say: “What, me worry?’
I don’t mean to make light of someone else’s real fears. I can’t tell you truthfully that the chilling thought has not crossed my mind. But let us not allow the fear of death rob us of the very essence of living.
Someone once said: “Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow. It empties today of its strength and joy.”
Treacherous enemy
Worry is a persistent and treacherous enemy. Just think of the many precious moments we have wasted fussing about some event that never took place. If there is a solution to your problem, find it. If there isn’t, then what’s the good of worrying?
In the Bible, the disciple Matthew asks: “Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?”
It is true that much is lost with the passing of time, but think of how the years have enriched us.
Most of us are control freaks by nature. Age makes us feel that we have lost even that. I say that we are wiser now and must decide to put the steering wheel of our lives in better hands. We must let go and let God.
Our problem is that we think we have all the time in the world. And then one day we wake up and feel the aches and pains of the years. We now lean and wobble a little when we walk. Anywhere we go seems too far. We forget names and faces, but vividly remember the stuff we want to forget.
We look across the vast ocean of life and, suddenly, we can see the horizon.
But please, don’t lose the joy of waking up every morning. Greet each day with gratitude. We may not spring out of bed like in the young days. But go ahead—stretch your arms up to the sky. Take a deep breath. Taste the sweetness of life and know that God is good.
