Just Don't Sleep Naked

I have always been afraid of getting older, even when I was a kid. Mostly it was a fear of the unknown. As one who wants to be in control of every situation, I was apprehensive of what was to come, particularly the BIG STUFF. In my early teen years, I distinctly remember worrying about exactly how I was going to...

• Get my driver's license
• Apply to college
• Survive at college
• Find a job
• Get married
• Buy a home
• Have a baby...

Of course, I lived through all of those turning points (though I'm still questioning my decision to have a baby x2), and in retrospect it seems comical to have been afraid of them, but I definitely was anxious of growing up and getting older and what that meant I was going to have to experience, ready or not.

Recently my fear of getting older has been resurfacing, but with a different twist. Now, I am afraid of losing what I already know and I'm not referring to the turning points, but rather to the basic concept of "me." (Hold on, she's getting heavy here.)

Off the top of my head I can state that I'm afraid of roller coasters, water skiing, dancing, breaking concrete with my elbow, and putting my feet up on the dashboard of the car (only while in the passenger seat, of course). Let me clarify: I'm not afraid of doing these things, rather I'm afraid that if I don't keep doing them, or have an opportunity to do them in the very near future, I may never do them again. Got that?

Case in point. Sleeping naked. Once you quit doing that, you can never go back without frightening yourself, your partner, your children, or the UPS man.

I think my current aging fears are my Dad's fault (remember, it's best to always blame someone else for your problems). Dad's 72 years old but he looks about 60 and acts about 50. Despite being retired for years, he still works when called by his former employer (cause he's so damn good at what he does). When he's not working for the company, he's in his wood shop building some amazing piece of furniture or whatnot. When he's not in his wood shop he's doing yard work, chopping down trees, or fixing something for the neighbors. When he's not otherwise engaged, in the summertime he's on the boat, fishing, crabbing or cleaning it, and in the fall and winter he's 25 feet up in a tree hunting deer. If none of these are a viable option, he's sleeping. For good reason. I'm exhausted just thinking about his activity level.

Recently, however, my dad has had a few setbacks. In the past few weeks he has sliced open his leg with a chainsaw cutting down a tree limb for a friend (9 stitches). He damaged a tendon or muscle in his bicep climbing up a tree with his tree stand. And he caught his arm on the lathe in his wood shop, destroying a new shirt and breaking his watch, but thankfully leaving his arm intact. And did I mention he lost his brand new hearing aid in the woods?

One might suggest to Dad that it's time to find new, less dangerous and strenuous activities, but I know better than to make such a recommendation. Wood working, welding, helping others, hunting, these things bring my dad joy. No, actually, they keep him alive. I know he can't imagine slowing down and trading in his old life for a more age-appropriate one.

So, Freakin' Angels, let's take a pledge to continue living life as we know it. Let's sing and embarrass our children. Let's dance in our pjs in the kitchen. Let's make fun at rich, well-dressed women with botox injections. Let's eat pie, drink milkshakes, and toast our friendships with many bottles of wine.

Only promise to never sleep naked, just in case I decide to stop over for breakfast...