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Mar 5, 2003 Recently I watched a movie that brought about some interesting thoughts. The main question in this beautifully done family flick was if given the choice, would you live forever. I found myself really taking that question and pondering it over for a while. Would I want to live forever? There is a part of me that would like that very much. Part of me wants to stay young, not age, not worry about my memory fading or feeling aches and pains. I want to have energy and vitality and feel free to take my time doing things, without the concern that life is somehow passing me by or feel like I am wasting it. There are so many things I want to accomplish and do as well as see and experience. Do I have the time for it all? The other side of that is of course, so many people that I love would die around me and I would remain. Along with that the pain would sit inside and fester. Loneliness would engulf me and I might fear meeting people, knowing I will have to watch them pass away. Maybe I would grow tired of the changing world. Perhaps I would regret that choice and live a lifetime of regret. I dont see a whole lot of happiness stemming from living forever. But that is also a fear of not knowing what to expect, a fear of the unknown. Would I look at this choice, given to me as a gift, perhaps a bottle of sand, and look at it as a challenge? What if all I had to do was pour this sand into my palm and rub my hands together, stalling my body from aging another minute, would I do it just out of curiosity? Would I toss it away and then someday go out in search of it because I had changed my mind? I wouldnt want to see my son or loved ones age and die, leaving me all alone. What if I accumulated so many memories overtime I forgot those people. I would sit and watch endless life cycles of others while mine stood still. I have lived thirty years and faced many challenges and trauma in my life. Will those past tragedies play over and over in my head and consume my sanity? I feel they do that all ready. Will I ever learn from the eternal life, a creature of habit doomed to make the same mistakes over and over? I dont know. So many celebrities spend countless dollars on plastic surgery and cosmetics to retain their youthful glow, knowing their careers have a short life span. Is it worth it in the end? What is really so wrong with growing old? Society says we arent supposed to age gracefully. Magazines tell us all the techniques to staying young like it is unheard of to become forty. Models come and go but seem to go after they hit thirty, making it seem as though one should never mature if they can help it. I was brought up with the notion that a woman at thirty was on her deathbed. Men would see her unattractive and would cast her away, looking for a younger model. Does physical appearance have to be so important? Why cant we love each other for the way we are instead of worrying about how we look compared to others? So I have a wrinkle, does that mean I am to be shunned and life to be pronounced over? I believed that, but the day came and now months have flown by and I realize that I dont feel older and I havent suddenly woken up looking like Rip Van Winkle, thank goodness. I mean, he is a male and all, so I wouldnt want to look like him. But I also dont look like miss Sleeping Beauty either. I confess if I see even one single strand of gray hair, I run out and buy hair color, but again, that is something that was driven into me long ago and I have yet to move beyond that way of thinking. Right now I can handle a wrinkle more than a strand of gray hair. Living forever would be too long for me. The sensible side of me would have to decline the offer. But I am sure I would every now and then, look back at it and wonder if that was indeed the right decision. I am sure that as I lie in my bed during my final days, I will wish I had more time. I would hope that my son had grown up happy and raised a wonderful family of his own. I would hope my loving partner is by my side, as I dont ever want to have to mourn for him. Inside I wish to feel love, comfort, and peace in dying. Most importantly I hope I lived a full life. While that question continues to wheedle itself in my mind, I hope to never be given that choice. Because even in knowing what I know and how I feel, I am subject to jump in head first, and swim the rough waters, only to look back at the calm peaceful shore and wish I had never jumped in the first place. That would be life, and I guess I will take things day by day, and find a way to make them endless, but only within my lifetime. About the author: Nancy Jackson is a full time author and poet with works in Literati, Twilight Times, Anotherealm, Sonny World, and various anthologies. Her pasttimes include spending time with her loved ones, drinking wine, and lots of writing! Email Nancy Jackson: coryann93@yahoo.com ------------ Comment on this column in the forum. ------------ |
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