By:  Jan Morgan-Swegle

I see  a sadness in growing old.  The memories of youth, the pain of grief and the realization that life will go on without us is often more than our hearts can accept.

I see the sadness in the shadows of a fading generation quickly growing smaller in numbers every day.  They sit and they remember different days–better days.  They are not the people they used to be; it went so fast. They were so busy fighting, building, creating and fixing that life went by in the blink of an eye.

They are quiet now.  They played the game well and lived in the best time and for that, they are proud.  But they are not forever lost yet.

There is still spirit in the bent bodies and bowed heads. There is still strength in the arms that guide walkers and wheel chairs.  There is still laughter amidst the tears of loss and abandonment.  For this, the greatest generation and beyond will show no weakness as the end draws near.  Giants of industry, warriors on the field.  Trail blazers for freedoms. Stars in their own right—now sit quietly as they examine their lives.    They remember their passion; they hale their victories.  The faces in their mirrors are the same ones in their dreams, youthful reflections of days gone by.

They don’t get to make decisions anymore.  They have changed roles with their children.  They are the ones who obey now, but with flashes of rebellion—the similarities of parenthood now reversed.

Their minds are sometimes cloudy, their eyes have grown old.  But they were the strong ones once in a world so long ago.

All too soon, this will be us and our children after that.

I hope I go with dignity.  I hope my body holds.  I don’t want to sit in sadness because I have grown old.