Alex Schroeder posted a phlog entry today that was really
enjoyable to read[1]. I'm not sure if he inteded for that to
be the case, but it was, at least for me.

In his post, Alex was addressing people "around 30." I'm 39,
so I suppose I'm more "around 40," but for that very reason
I was able to relate. Hindsight is 20/20, of course, and so
I think his post might not have had nearly as much meaning
if I was still "around 30." Hopefully the 30-something's who
are reading his post will be more wise than I was.

I'd love to expand upon a few thoughts Alex shared.

"Growing older is a bitter experience." Alex started with
this premise, and in good form he closed with similar ideas,
which I want to compress together here. He stated toward the
end of his post that "behind the happy facade there is a sea
of cancer and death." I lost my father to cancer last year,
the first of that type of experience for me in my adult
life. I was bitter, and I'm still not over it. The world has
changed for me a bit. I understand, I think, a little of
what Alex means about the bitter experience. At least, I'm
starting to.

"Little injuries will take forever to heal." It is amazing
to me how quickly this changed. About two years ago, I had
oral surgery. When it was all said and done, and I went in
for a final checkup, my doctor was worried when I said that
I still felt a sort of lump where the surgery was. It turned
out to be "fibrous tissue," and I was told that I "healed
like a 16 year old!" Fast forward to a couple weeks ago[2],
when I tried to play a rough game with my kids, and ended
up hurting both my knees. They still ache, and I'm just
hoping that they'll get better. The kind of game we played
would not have done that to me a few years back. I don't
really want to think about what it will be like a few years
forward. Maybe it's not to late to follow Alex's advice and
get in better shape.

This next part I found pretty poetic, and I want to quote it
in its entirety:

"You sit and your feet hurt. You walk and your feet hurt. I
think I must have been around 35 when I started to feel
older. And now I know what it is like. Sure, you get used to
it. You laugh and shake your head, you still run and dance
and fight, but recovery takes longer, and the pain always
comes back. You run longer, desperately trying to get your
youth and your health back. But it's not easy to forget. At
night, the pain comes back. When you stop, the pain comes
back. It's always there, a constant reminder. Life is short
and then you die."

I don't know Alex, of course, nor do I know the wellspring
of his thoughts and feelings. His conclusion I appreciate on
the surface; certainly we should live each day like the end
is coming. I'm no nihilist, nor am I a hedonist, nor do I
believe that death is the final end of the human soul. But
even so, death is the end of our physical interactions here,
it is the end of our current relationships, it is a severing
of a connection. It is painful, depressing; everything that
people have most certainly felt and described throughout the
ages. One can't really go too wrong, applying Alex's advice
to "seize the day," especially when it comes to appreciating
those we love, today.

[1] gopher://alexschroeder.ch:70/02018-01-30_To_The_Young_Ones
[2] gopher://grex.org:70/0/~tfurrows/phlog/2018/ank_knees.txt