I dislike getting older. Not only does your body deteriorate, but not uncommonly, your brain does as well.
Having painfully walked my dogs around the park once, (something I did five times or so without pain a few years ago) I prepared to head for my car and home.
A cheery voice greeted me by name from another vehicle. The usual pleasantries were exchanged with smiles. How was I and how was he?
Then he got down to matters factual. Was I still playing table tennis, how were things at the seniorâ€™s centre? He was a delightful fellow with a likeable personality.
He then switched the conversation to more personal matters, such as his wife.
He was obviously well acquainted with me and my affairs. But who the heck was he? I wracked what is left of my retentive memory cells and drew a blank.
It was a dreadful feeling, as I had met a man who was obviously a friend, and could not find the slightest glimmer of recognition.
This is just one of the numerous burdens of old age. Our old bodies are scanned by busy physicians for the source of many painful complaints. The result is often a hospital stay of some duration while we recuperate, followed by another breakdown of our now painful old bodies again.
We oldsters are the reason medical expenses are escalating to unbearable heights, in the struggle to keep old, decaying brains and bodies alive.
It seems to me to be logical that when the individual adjudges life to be not worth living, professional help can be administered so he or she can slip away into oblivion and stop being a burden to themselves and society.
Mike Harvey, Langley