Anyone that knows me , knows that I don’t “hate” anything quite as much as using the word “hate”. When it slips out of my mouth: I react like I have just dropped the f-bomb. To me, it is just as horrible. I can honestly say that I frequently used that word when referring to people who were happy early in the mornings and older individuals. And , at age 17, if I knew I’d be living with my cats and wearing goofy pajamas and tutus at 3 am: I think I would scream in horror.
I’m quite certain fear was behind my hate and anger towards those people. Anger at happiness. Fear of aging. That (God forbid) I might become my parents. That I might one day wear socks with sandals. Knee sleeves. White hair. 5 cent coffee at Hardee’s. J. Jill. No way in hell would I let that happen. Certainly not! I was young and cool. They were dorky old people.
The irony being this: I hope to God I will end up there one day.. I pray that I will one day wear orthopedic shoes and flowered swim caps and cardigans and wear my pants up to my chest. That I might one day be an older weightlifter wearing compression devices. That I might compete in the Masters. And no: I do not have some perverse masochistic streak. I do not yearn for these things. Perhaps, I do. One day. Surprisingly: I smile when I see those things. They give me hope. And rather than seeing a person as obnoxiously happy: I see someone who has refused disillusionment. And rather than an “old” person: I view them as a warrior. Sometimes literally: they have known war. They are still standing; after all this time. I can honestly say those tube socks are now seen by me as strange awards. Badges of honor worn by the older individual that has gone through rites of passage. Having children . Families. Surgery. Births. Deaths. Careers. Gains and losses. Nations and leaders rise and fall. Epochs in history, These people have experienced life in ways that I don’t know if my 41 year -old brain has the ability to handle. I think my head might explode. The, mental, and physical circumstances our older generation is a reality that many people could not bear to live.
I certainly have an odd take on tube socks!
And when I wear those socks; I will pair them with shorts and knee sleeves so the world sees that there is absolutely nothing wrong with them. But know this:
The likelihood of me still wearing combat boots in my 80s is high. I honestly believe they have become permanent after 30 years!
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