8/22/2011

Fear of Growing Old


In a coffee shop sometime ago, I overheard two teenagers chatting:  

Girl 1: “My mom is sooo old, she'll never understand what I am going through.”

Girl 2: “If you think your mom's old,  mine's worse—she just turned 47!  Ugh, I can never talk to her about anything!”

It took colossal effort to keep myself from yelling, Hey, 47 is sooo young, you hear! 

Another time, three-year-old Adrian and I were walking toward a toy store when he asked, “Amah, are you old?”

“Of course not, I am very young!” I exclaimed. 

“Then you can't buy me anything in there. Young people don't have money,” he said, worried.

I laughed so hard I cried.

Amah, you're crying and laughing. How come I can't do that?”

I was on crisis mode one day because Ate Vi kept tut-tutting, “Your white hair roots are so ugly! If you don't dye your hair soon, you'll look like Lola Meling.” White-haired Lola Meling is our neighbor in her 80s, but cleans to a sparkling shine her grandson's van every morning. 

Dyeing my hair had to be postponed because of an awful itch all over my head the day before.  Due to vigorous scratching, my scalp turned red and raw, which prompted me to see a dermatologist.

“What's wrong, ma'am?” the gentle young doctor with lush, long, naturally brunette hair asked. 

My thought balloon, I wish I had hair like yours! My outburst, “I will soon look like Lola Meling! Doc, if I don't dye my hair soon, I'll die!”  

She laughed, obviously used to similar outbursts from her own mother—or grandmother.  And dutifully, she gave me lotions and potions which cost me three month's lecture fee. 

There is a resistance (defiance even) against growing old!

I can count with my fingers the women over 40 who will say their age outright. Oprah discussed this with once-young-and-fresh models/actresses, now shriveled and, well, old.  They all bemoaned the fact that the world defines beauty by outward facade which withers with time.

A gay friend used to lament, “I hope I die at age 40, because I don't want to be an old gay.” 

We dread growing old so much that a word was invented to describe this irrational fear—gerascophobia.

But as I end the 6th chapter of my book on “retirement,” I have been properly reassured:  Caring grace comes with growing old.

In Isaiah 46: 3-4 (NLT), the Lord speaks—“I have cared for you since you were born. Yes, I carried you before you were born. I will be your God throughout your lifetime—until your hair is white with age. I made you, and I will care for you. I will carry you along and save you.”

“Old” is not fading out, or drying up, or wasting away. It is being cared for by a loving God—in exactly the same way “young” is.

7 comments:

Yay Padua-Olmedo said...

Basta I look forward to my 60th. We can eat discounted at Shakey's, hahaha! Old is the best time of our life! (As long as we stay strong and we can still go shopping and have coffee together.)

Grace D. Chong said...

And constantly repeat what we say because we couldn't remember who said what. Hahaha!

Ryan Rotor said...

60 is the new 40. And Everybody says Amen! =)

Ryan Rotor said...

I forgot to mention: the fourth commandment keeps us from looking and feeling old. =)

Grace D. Chong said...

People in their 60s keep learning from those in their 20s. You have the wisdom way ahead of your years, Rye!

minnaalin said...

Remember the time when we told Papa that we took the "bab-bakets" (Auntie and Mama) to the movies so that we could shop at our leisure in the mall? His response was, "Apay, pagcun-cunaanyo met ti bag-bagi yo?" Ay, nasupalpal! Haha!

Grace D. Chong said...

In denial forever, cuz, hahaha!