Age wins

 What will I miss in my golden years? Will I ever know what it feels like to caress a woman again or dance to a love song? Will my words be clear, and my voice still be able to carry a tune? Will there be someone in my life to love me back, or will I watch the sunrise and sunset by myself as the seasons change and time runs out?

What will happen to my youthful memories when time felt endless and there was so much of it ahead? Will those memories fade, replaced by a constant search for the right words to speak?

Some might say that old age is a blessing, and perhaps it can be if you're one of the lucky ones who has cheated death for years, only to find yourself one day finding it hard to recall a memory as you watch the sand in the hourglass running out.

Being old, being young, and being able present many challenges in a fast-paced world where there’s little time to sit and reflect on life while trying to create as many memories as possible.

I remember seeing elderly folks talking to themselves and joking that someday that could be me; little did we know how quickly that day would come. It’s not that I'm talking to myself; I’m merely trying to keep the conversation going before there’s nothing left to say—at least about the things I can still remember. We all eventually face that moment when we look in the mirror and don't recognize the person staring back, with a wrinkled face and lines etched by long days lived. We look at that face and refuse to accept the years so clearly visible, asking ourselves how this could happen to us.

If I could capture one of my fondest memories, it would be my first dance with my first love in a musty school gym, the smell of her hair, the feel of her hand in mine as we danced into the night. I would remember her laugh and how both of us were nervous, knowing our lips were about to meet in a kiss that felt like heaven. The taste of her cherry red lips staying on mine, a reminder of her long after going to sleep, dreaming of only her and me, and a love that had a beginning but no end.

Truth be told, being old is just a collection of numbers that label you, but inside that person gazing back at you is just an older version who has not yet accepted that the day has finally arrived when age wins, youth says goodbye, and the last grain of sand is gone.

Mike 2025