When I was much younger, I did not look forward with a great deal of anticipation to getting older. One of my kid memories from the fifties is seeing an old couple, I probably thought they were well into their eighties, driving an RV. The old guy had white hair and leathery looking skin. So did the woman with him. Obviously I don’t remember my exact thoughts, but most likely it went something like this, “Geez!! They are way too old to be driving, let alone driving that big thing. I bet they have a hard time steering it!! They ought to be at home resting.”
I am not eighty yet, but do have the white hair that comes with advancing years. Today, when I see an older couple like that I admire them. They possess abilities far beyond the understanding of that little boy. Long life has a tendency to provide the tools needed to understand and negotiate through its challenges.
Here is my poem celebrating being older:
The Big RV
When I was a youngster
Graying hair and skin of leather
I once did see
Behind the wheel of a big RV
To my surprise and great chagrin
More hair of gray and leathery skin
I was to see
Emerging from that big RV
They are way too old.
And full of mold.
They must at least be eighty three.
They have no business in that big RV!
At home and resting
They ought be aging.
They should not be,
In that big RV.
The challenges of my younger life
Are no longer such a strife
For I can negotiate, you see
The wheel of the big RV
So it is with hair of gray
And skin so leathery
I can proclaim with jubilee
In my driveway sits the Big RV.