Train of Life

 We pull from the station with a bump and a lurch,

Throwing me from my cozy berth,

And the rattle of the wheels on the track sets the beat,

And I try to keep up with my tiny feet.

 

We zoom through my childhood beginning the trip,

And I dance and twirl, and I leap and skip,

And with joyful exuberance, I prance,

Because I can’t resist the rhythm of the dance.

 

There’s pounding on the track, and I feel the heat.

Now the passion of youth sets the beat,

But the train moves on at a steady pace,

And I find myself swept into the maddening race.

 

But, after a time of just waltzing along,

I start to recognize that I am not as strong,

And I find that now I must use a cane,

To keep my balance on this surging train.

 

I see my destination up ahead,

The road has been long, but the light is red,

And I leave the train and the rattling track,

Knowing in my heart, I cannot go back.

 

And the train pulls away to the future bound.,

From the sidelines now, I hear the distant sound,

Of the rumble and the rattle and the clack, clack, clack,

Of the rhythm of the wheels on the Lifeline track.

Are We Obligated to Die at 75?

 Dr. Ezekiel Emanual, who is an adviser to Biden regarding covid, has previously come out with the notion that people really shouldn’t be living past 75.  He believes creativity and productivity decline significantly for most people after this age.   I agree with him that way too much money is spent in trying to stave off the inevitability of death.  But, I don’t think we have an obligation to die at 75 or shortly thereafter.  I can think of many people I know personally who have been and are very productive past 75.

There was a point in my life when I thought that if I was past 70 and needed a pacemaker, I wouldn’t get one.  I am 75 and I am still quite healthy and active, so if I was confronted with the question of a pacemaker at this point, I might do it.  On the other hand, I so wish my mother hadn’t agreed to one at the age of 80.  She was already in frail condition, although we didn’t know the full extent at that point.  For example, we didn’t know that one of her renal arteries was plugged resulting in one of her kidneys being non-functioning.  She had the pacemaker put it.  Shortly after that the circulatory problems in her legs became worse.  They were planning to do surgery on her legs and in the process of testing discovered the non-functional kidney and a partially blocked renal artery on the other side.  They decided they needed to place a stent in the renal artery that was partially blocked before trying to deal with the leg issue.  When they anesthetized her for that surgery, she had a heart attack.  Her blood pressure bottomed out, but the pacemaker kept her heart beating and she survived.  A couple of weeks later, she had a massive stroke, but the pacemaker kept her alive.  She then spent 5 months suffering and requiring total care.  In the end, because the circulatory problem in her legs hadn’t been dealt with, she developed gangrene.  I was caring for her in my home, and I kept her totally doped up on narcotics so that she didn’t feel the pain.  If she had been in a nursing home, there would have been more suffering and huge expense for care of lesser quality than I offered.

My Dad lived to be 90 enjoying woodworking in the basement until the last 2-3 years.  He was only in a nursing home the last 6 days of his life. My father-in-law worked until he was 96, and only required help the last 6 months.  He ran a charity that provided simple irrigations systems to bare subsistence farmers in undeveloped areas of the world right up to those last 6 months.  My husband is 77.  He still runs, plays pickleball and serves on several boards.

I now live in a retirement community, and I can’t believe the productivity and creativity I see around me.  There are some amazing musicians here…people who are still performing and arranging.  There are so many artistic endeavors that a fantastic new arts center is under construction.  There are people who go off-site to work at various charities….one of those is a home for boys who have bombed out of foster care.  An inventors’ club was recently started.  Women in Knitters Anonymous create items for 7 different charities.  Retired ministers go off-site to preach in local churches.  Of course, there are people in the skilled nursing and memory care units or those who sit in their apartments aimlessly, but the place is also a beehive of activity.  Many are still making a significant impact past the age of 75.

I think as we age, we have an obligation to weigh our decisions carefully as to how much medical intervention we seek.  We may not want to ever be on life support, but how many pills would one have to take before they ended up qualifying as “life support?” 

My concern is if we ever reach a point where the government or a panel of its “experts” make decisions for us after we are 75.  Or suppose instead of our thoughts being taken into account, children…even those from whom we may be estranged…get to make decisions.  Women have a right to terminate their unborn children.  Will children ever have the right to terminate their parents? 

Will the government have a right to deny care to those over 75?

Will we be obligated to have a big 75^th birthday celebration because it is planned to be our last?

Vitriol

 The sweet façade sometimes cracks,

And what pours out is vile.

Angry words spew forth

Splashing everyone in sight.

 

The rage felt toward one person,

Turns abruptly to others,

Who stand confused, as the acid

Lands and eats into their souls.

 

The great roiling pot of vitriol

Lies beneath the surface,

Waiting for an opportunity.

Do you feel better afterward?

 

How do you manage to shrug it off?

To feel justified in the rage,

The pain you inflict,

The wounds ever deepening?

 

Do you not know, the searing liquid

Puddles around your own feet,

Bounces back on your own face,

Scars you and those you claim to love?

 

When will you outgrow this?

Will you rage into the grave,

Trying to hurl your burning spit

Into the face of God Himself?