I’m old.
On Thursday your Captain will turn 60.
I know that’s probably not old to some.
“60 is the new 40!”
Or something like that.
Me dear ol’ Dad died at 42. Your Captain deals with death regularly in my work as a pastor. I know age is not always the final determiner. Even as a teenager I realized there are no guarantees.
Truth be told, your Captain never expected to live past 40.
I guess in that respect I should celebrate that every day for the past 20 years has been a gift!
Hell, up until I was 50, whenever I looked in the mirror I saw my 35-year-old self looking back.
Your Captain is a very young 60!
It’s not about death.
The Captain is not afraid to die.
I don’t want to yet, but I’m not afraid to die.
It’s simply about getting old.
And everything that goes with it.
Thinning hair.
Aching bones.
Sitting on the front porch yelling, “You kids get off my lawn!”
Nonetheless, this morning your Captain went to the audiology center and had molds made for hearing aids.
My hearing has been getting worse for years. Hearing loss runs in my family. I vividly recall visiting my 94-year-old grandfather in the nursing home and my Dad shouting directly into his ear so he could hear what was said.
My siblings have already given in to hearing aids, as has one niece.
So I knew it was only a matter of time.
Frankly, I’ve been putting this off for years because of the stigma.
I don’t want to be old!
Yes, the Captain was willing to undergo a sinus surgery rather than wear hearing devices!
Captain’s Note: I like to breathe too, so there was that.
But my ENT didn’t want to jump into surgery without trying other options.
And, in truth, the sinuses really aren’t contributing a whole lot to my hearing problems.
So the choice came down to not hearing what you said (which has become more and more often) vs. having big clunky devices stuck in my ears.
I chose the smaller clunky devices.
They will be ready at the end of the month.
Who knows. This may be a game-changer!
But for right now, it’s making me feel old.
Happy Birthday to me…
