It has come to my attention that I’m old. I don’t

know when first I realised this fact; it has sneaked

up on me, below the radar as it were. And realisation,

when it came, was coupled with another realisation,

that this was not a sudden thing.

 

I suppose it was when the settings on my hearing aids

needed to be tweaked for the third or fourth time,

that the spectre of deafness screamed

its banshee cry to shred the veil of self-deceit,

and force an inevitable confrontation.

 

I guess that’s when the dots were joined,

when my reluctant brain recognised its denial,

that retirement was actually a lot more

than just a couple of years ago. How could that

have escaped notice of a normally analytical mind?

 

Yes, there have been distractions. New pursuits

like writing, a focus on travel and entertainment.

And the intrusion of external interferences,

like a global pandemic, economic turmoil. A time

to simply live a life without constraints of work.

 

But these are just excuses. And if I’m honest

with myself, a wilful blind eye determined not

to see what patently is true. The passage of years

has wreaked its havoc on more than hearing.

I just haven’t heard the increasing clamour.

 

Niggles mounting like the insidious spread

of that pandemic. Dicky ticker, creaky knees.

Those extra checks suggested by doctors

who don’t look old enough to have

finished school yet. Just a precaution they say.

 

And what has my recalcitrant brain been doing

since this epiphany? Examining more realisations,

realising that it doesn’t have answers to questions

these realisations create. Some are obvious.

There are more years behind then will be ahead.

 

Beyond that it’s a lottery as to where the reaper’s

blade will cleave its final cut. A failing heart

that simply stops; a strange new virus, virulent

and quick? A simple accident that strikes

while the mind is focussed on distractions.

 

It has come to my attention that now I’m old

the damage that’s been done can’t be undone.

Those aches and pains and groans must run their course

and realisation hits me once again that little

can be done to turn the tide at this end of my life.

 

So, tally ho! Crack on with all those should’ve dones

and maybes. And if they can’t be done, why,

try them anyway. And if you fail, so what? Beyond

threescore and ten is now a bonus, a chance

to formulate and realise new dreams.