A SUNDAY VIEW FROM A PEW: “Just Keep Living…”

My mama used to look at me, shake her head, and say, “Keep living, and one day you’ll understand.”

Back then I laughed.
Now? I ain’t laughing. I’m just trying to remember where I put my glasses… while they’re sitting on top of my head.

See, there’s a spiritual mystery about getting old. It sneaks up on you like a bill you forgot to pay. One day you’re out with your boys bragging about what you did last night… and now we’re sitting around saying, “Man, if I was just ten years younger.” Ten years younger? At this age, give me ten minutes without a cramp and I’ll shout hallelujah.

Once upon a time, our conversations were about who had the best jump shot, the flyest car, or the cleanest outfit. Now? The group chat is about knee braces, compression socks, Voltaren arthritis gel and comparing our A1C number.

Lord, getting old is humbling.

DRESS FOR SUCCESS? NO… DRESS FOR SURVIVAL

Remember when we dressed for style? Sharp creases, fresh shoes, smelling like cologne straight looking like you just stepped out of an Ebony magazine? Now we dress for comfort. Elastic waistbands, orthopedic insoles, and shirts big enough to hide what used to be a six-pack but is now a family-size value pack. And if you ever want to know how old a brother is, look at his shoes. If they got memory foam, he’s collecting AARP mailers.

THE BODY DON’T BODY LIKE IT USED TO

We used to do things all night long. Now? It takes all night just to do the things. There was a day when a man walked into the restroom, stood back and let the stream fly like Niagara Falls. Now? We are leaning on the urinal walls… or worse, sitting down in the stall because standing that long is disrespectful to the knees.

Don’t judge us. That porcelain ain’t never looked so inviting.

And let’s not even talk about gas. EVERYTHING gives you gas now. Milk gives you gas. Cheese gives you gas. A strong breeze? Gas. You walk around all day sounding like you stepped on a duck.

THE WATER PILL OLYMPICS

When you get old, where you sit—in church, at a banquet, at your grandchild’s school program—depends on one thing: When that water pill will in. You can be dressed up, holier than thou, praising the Lord with your hands lifted high… …and five minutes later you are power walking down that aisle like you training for the Senior Olympics. That’s why older saints sit on the end of the pew. That ain’t about convenience. That’s strategy.

YOU KNOW YOU'RE GETTING OLD WHEN…

• You can’t eat what you used to eat. Used to smash fried chicken at midnight. Now one chicken wing after 6 p.m. has you praying for deliverance and Pepto-Bismol.
• Your idea of “going out” is standing on the porch for fresh air.
• You used to stay up all night. Now Netflix asks, “Are you still watching?” and you offended because you been asleep since episode one.
• You walk into a room and forget why you came in there. You walk out… then remember. Come back… and forget again.
• You see seniors on TV playing pickleball and decide to give it a try. You fall twice, twist your hip, and spend the next three days smelling like Bengay and Vicks VapoRub.
• Young people call you “Unc.” That’s their way of politely saying, “Sir, you are seasoned.”
• You used to buy Pampers for the babies. Now you are in Wal-Mart deciding the best brand of adult diapers you should purchase; Depends, Tranquility, Attends or Prevail. And you just throw them in the cart and dare anybody to say something.

WHEN DID WE BECOME THE OLD PEOPLE?

You ever sit in a room, look around at folks with walkers, canes, and wheelchairs, and think: “Lord, these some old people in here!” And then you catch yourself. Because guess what? You are the same age as them. Surprise,  you are old people.

One day you wake up and realize you have become the person you swore you’d never be—your parents. Telling kids to turn the music down.
Picking restaurants based on parking and lighting. Leaving events before dark because “I don’t drive at night.” Falling asleep in the recliner with a remote in your hand, halfway through a prayer.

My mama was right. Just keep living.

THE GOOD NEWS

But let me tell you something: Getting old is a blessing. Because the alternative? You don’t want that. Every ache, every pill, every doctor’s appointment, every gray hair is just another reminder:

We’re still here. We’re still living. We’re still laughing. We’re still learning.

And we finally understand what our parents meant. So yeah, the mind still says yes and the body still says “Boy, sit down somewhere.” But we keep living, keep laughing, and keep thanking God for another day. Because getting old ain’t for the weak……but it sure is funny if you can laugh at yourself.