I recently celebrated a birthday that got me to thinking. The thought that I gave much contemplation to was this: Am I growing old or getting older? There is a vast difference in one who grows old and one who grows older. By that statement, I am not implying like some who assert that age is just a number. As a realist, I know better than that and my sixty-six year old body reminds me everyday that age is much more than a number. Every part of my physical anatomy, especially my legs, arms, eyes, and all the other body parts that I depend upon to run, walk, and execute physical tasks, keeps me mindful of the fact that age is more than a mere number. There was a time when I was much younger, much slimmer in size, much lighter in weight, had a head full of hair, and when I considered the age of sixty as being old. However, now that I am the age that I am, being sixty is not so old after all. Recently, I met a young woman who was sitting beside me at a Christmas concert (featuring the famous Marine band from Parris Island Marine Base). She was adorned in a leather outfit that made me think that she was a motorcycle rider. This seventy-four year old lady, who was not reluctant to disclose her age, was very vivacious, young at heart, and one of the inspirations for the subject of my column today. Age is an issue that every one of us, in one way or another, must deal with, whether we want to or not. Ever since we came into the world, through the natural birthing process, we have been experiencing aging. No one, regardless of race, gender, religion, education, or socio-economic status, can stop or truly delay this natural process that will remain in effect from the cradle to the grave. However, there is a big difference between aging and growing old. I have observed people who were relatively young, some in their forties and even thirties, who looked old and well into their sixties and seventies. On the other end of the equation, like the woman I briefly considered a few sentences before, there are quite a few people out there, who most of us know, who are in their sixties, seventies, and beyond who seem to have discovered the secret to not growing old. What the renowned Spanish explorer Ponce de León failed to discover when he landed in Florida reportedly in pursuit of the imaginary spring called the Fountain of Youth, many have discovered this fabled fountain through the disciplines of nutrition and proper eating, exercising, getting the right amount of sleep and rest, as well as not worrying.
I know people in their eighties, like Mrs. Mary Lee Johnson, and even a handful of centurions, like Mrs. Martha Smutherman, who still drive and tend to their own garden. I recently greeted Mr. Dolphus Carter as he exited a store I was patronizing. He embodies the point I am making. Then there is Mrs. Hattie McCoy, who at the age of ninety-two, is the senior mother of our church and one of the most active and energetic members of our congregation. All of these people who are aging have managed not to grow old. Although they are well into their eighties, nineties, and one is a centurion, they are still actively involved in many activities in their families, churches, and communities. Three of my high school coaches and mentors, Mr. James Moultrie, Mr. Jason Gunter, and Mr. Famon Whitfield, have certainly made the grade of aging without growing old. These “young older men” who are in their seventies have evidently discovered the fabled Fountain of Youth. Like Caleb in the biblical narrative (see Joshua 14:11), they seem to be as strong and able in their seventies as they were when I first met them almost fifty years ago. I have a brother who just happens to be the oldest in the sibling clan of eight boys and two girls. I refer to him by a term of endearment as “The Big One”. This nickname certainly does not describe his size or height for he is easily the shortest and least heavy of all of us brothers. “Big One,” apart from being a term of endearment, expresses our respect and regard for our elder brother who always cast a big shadow and whose shoes were difficult to fill. It was he who set the standard for the rest of us to strive to measure up to. He was the first to be a good student, as well as a three-sport letterman, but most important of all, he was an obedient and good son to my parents. So now you know why he is referred to by his brothers as the “Big One”. “Big One” is a classic example of a man who is aging, but who refuses to grow old. Though he is going to be seventy-two in January, he can easily go for a man in his middle to late fifties. As a widower and handsome man with debonair ways when he is around women, I have to keep him grounded and mindful of the fact that “the old gray mule ain’t what he use to be!”
Like all the people I have considered in my column today, I will confess that I am in the number of the few who are striving to age without growing old. I have not discovered the imaginary and fabled Fountain of Youth. What I have discovered is that anyone can age without growing old through the disciplines that we have already considered and that growing old is more of an attitude and disposition than it is anything else. And so I choose to remain young at heart and live in this present world with the mindset that I will never grow old. I will slow down as I grow older and perhaps my physical strength, stamina, and vitality will naturally decline, but be assured, I will never grow old.