That whole mortality thing yesterday had me thinking about math and time. My online friend’s husband did die yesterday, and she mentioned that they’d had 61 years together. My parents had 50, and one set of grandparents were just shy of that. Ted comes from a longer-lived family; his parents just hit 50 years (that was the reason for our Galapagos trip with them) and I’m hoping for many more; one set of his grandparents hit 60 years minus a few days, and the other made it to 65.

We’ve been together 26 years now, married 23 of them. That means that with luck we could have another 40 or more together – more time to look forward to than we’ve had already, which is kind of wonderful since we’ve already been together more than half our lives. The downside of that of that – and it does seem a little unfair – is that those will all be our over-50 years. I don’t think that age means you can’t have fun or do cool stuff – participating in a sport where it’s common to see people competing at 80 or even 90 would have cured me of that. Moreover, even the small added bits of graying and creakiness we’re seeing so far have convinced us that the best way to age is to age together; I think it would suck, in fact, to be a 60-year-old wedded to someone 30 or 40 years younger, though obviously that’s totally subjective. But there’s no denying that age means that more things hurt and though you might be able to do much of what you always could, you recover more slowly.(There is eventually a point where the body just says “nope!” though it comes at a different age for everyone. We saw that in Ted’s grandfather last weekend. He split wood by hand up into his 70s and still lives alone, so it’s been a good run, but you can tell his body is just noping out of a lot he’d like to do.)

Anyway, I find myself a little resentful of the inexorable math of humanity, that even if we’re lucky enough to have as much time together as humans can reasonably expect, we’ll spend two thirds of it being middle-aged and old. I would like our Lazarus Long-type treatments to be starting around now, kthxplz.

Oh, well. Nothing for it but to ride as long as you can, and enjoy as much of it as possible.

I’m right there with Robert Browning on “youth shows but half”, but not so convinced on “the best is yet to be” – guess I’ll have to wait and see. Maybe Kipling is more suitable:

It’s like a book, I think, this bloomin’ world,
Which you can read and care for just so long,
But presently you feel that you will die
Unless you get the page you’re readin’ done,
An’ turn another—likely not so good;
But what you’re after is to turn ’em all.

Gawd bless this world! Whatever she ’ath done—
Excep’ when awful long I’ve found it good.
So write, before I die, ‘’E liked it all!’

(One thing sure, however old I get I will never stop wanting to play with toys. Last night I did the lazy person’s version of camping out in front of the Apple Store. I set my iPad on the appropriate webpage before going to sleep, and when I woke up during the night, as I almost always do (an inevitable consequence of sleeping lightly and living with cats) I ordered one of the new Apple Watches. It’s supposed to arrive in three weeks.)