The problem isn’t so much that in the end, we die. It’s in all the time leading up to the end. Not death, but severe decline is what puts fear in our hearts. A long debilitating illness or just aging that cuts us off progressively (regressively, come to think of it) from all that we love.
We all peak physically at some 30 years of age, but robustness and increased life satisfaction can persist for decades longer as we go about building our lives, hopefully coming to accept our aging and its limitations with equanimity and often, good doses of humor.
But the decline does march on, as inexorable as fall following summer.
At a certain point, we stop running, then hiking, then walking without assistance, then walking altogether.
We stop driving long distances, then at night, then at all.
No more foreign travel, then it’s no to flying anywhere, then no more leaving our town, our house, and finally our room ...
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