I Thought I Had Accepted Old Age, Then I Turned 81

Still, I want to stay for the whole movie and see what happens

Photo by Tom Jur on Unsplash

I’m learning that the best times of your life aren’t always the easiest.

When I was 78, I wrote an essay about old age being the best time of my life. And I really meant it. In it, I said that once you accept your age, everything gets better — now I know that’s not necessarily true. Things might get worse. All the problems we have now might be with us for the rest of our lives.

Zen master Suzuki Roshi said, “Life is like stepping onto a boat which is about to sail out to sea and sink.” That quote rings even truer at 81. Entropy is a bitch — we’re constantly spinning plates to keep up with the relentless onslaught of old age.

Now that I’m 81, I’m starting to feel my age much more. I was pretty naive when I wrote that “best time of my life” stuff. I was a baby elder, excited about entering a life era that only existed in my head. I was a teenager dreaming of California stars.

I was looking forward to living to 100 — I was making a marathon into a walk in the park. Old age is not easy, or old age is not for sissies, as someone said.

I’m now dealing with REM Sleep disorder, hearing loss, arthritis in both knees, balance problems, bladder deficiencies, slowly worsening cataracts and, of course, memory lapses. (I’m probably forgetting some things.)

No one told me that old age is a full-time job and there is no retirement except for the big one we’re all trying to avoid. I used to talk about living to 100 as if it might be a fun thing. Like, I might be profiled in the newspaper on how I’m still writing essays and having a glass of wine every night at 100.

Look how adorable he is.

There is nothing adorable about old age, even if I have the money to live a fairly comfortable life. I’m running out of energy, and I’m running out of time. That being said, I wouldn’t want to go back in time and be 13 again, no matter how tempting that sounds.

That’s not how life works. Everything runs down like a clock with a failing battery, like an old machine in a crumbling factory. Ashes are never going to be firewood again. Everything that was born is going to die, and yet I want to stay for the whole movie — and see what happens.

What has surprised you most about growing older? I’d love to hear your story.

I know most of my problems have been slowly building over the years, but it seems like they all ambushed me when I turned 81. I burst onto the old-age writing scene three years ago, so optimistic about accepting and exploring old age, and now it seems like I’m hunkered down in the trenches, fending off attackers like Kirk Douglas in Paths of Glory.

I’m still optimistic, but I feel tired and beset with putting out fires all day, and there seems to be no end to them. The concept of retirement seems absurd now. It seems I spend all my time managing my various maladies and planning my next procedure. Arthritis in my knees, for instance. I may have a knee replacement in my future.

I have an overnight sleep test this evening, and will rush home tomorrow morning to get to a meeting with Marina with the executor of our estate, and there will be talk of death, wills, and advance directives. And to top it all off, I’ll spend the rest of my time thinking almost exclusively about old age — the good, the bad, and the ugly — so I can write about it.

Plus, I have a lot of fear around falling on a sidewalk or down the stairs. I am very careful when I walk these days. But still I keep walking because that’s my job as a human.

I did my job as an infant, a teenager, and an adult, and now I’ve got to finish it — run all the way to the end of the marathon — but unlike a real marathon, I don’t know where the finish line is.

I fear my movie may have a surprise ending.

I think all this has a lot to do with life energy and running low on it. Yesterday I drove over to the Inner Sunset district to buy a gift for my son, and walking, maybe a half mile, to find the store tired me out. I guess I have reached the point of being fully conscious of my flagging energy — like an aging boxer.

Best time of my life? Did I really say that?

I did, and I still think it’s true. I’m writing on Substack and Medium and have gathered a faithful following of readers on both platforms, and that gives me a lot of pleasure and a reason to get up in the morning. And I know the things I need to do to recover some of my lost energy.

I just need to keep walking — mindful of every step and grateful for every moment.

What has surprised you most about growing older? I’d love to hear your story.

Gary July 2026

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