Dearest Rachel –
Unlike you – who appreciated my description of you as five years old with forty years’ experience – I never felt all that comfortable as a kid, and made an effort to grow up as quickly as possible. I related better to my elders than I did to my peers (although, come to that, so did you, but in a very different way that I’d be hard pressed to define, or even understand). I couldn’t wait to be older, and have more autonomy and responsibility – which, at the time, I thought I could handle.
And to be fair, as more came my way, I was able to manage up to a certain point. The thing is, as long as you demonstrate a certain level of competency in what’s handed to you, more will be handed to you… until you prove that you have reached your limit. At that point, the best you can hope for is that those additional responsibilities eventually start to level off so that life ultimately becomes more manageable (spoiler alert: they don’t, and it doesn’t, but I think you figured that out, too). What’s worse is that, by the time this becomes clear, there isn’t any chance of backtracking to try to course correct; you’re an adult now, and an adult you will stay. There are so many things you can’t do again, once you’ve surrendered them as a child – all of which might go a long way to explain why you had such difficulty letting go of anything, whether a thing or a behavior, because you might want to go back to it at some point, and you wanted to leave the option open to yourself. In hindsight, I can see the wisdom in that, honey, although you may have taken it a bit farther than you ought to have.
As for myself, not only am I unable to try and craft a new childhood for myself, I’ve discovered that I’ve taken on a lot of the trappings of old age sooner than I expected to, very few of them to my benefit. For all that I still see myself as being in my mid-thirties, there’s so much about me that’s clearly so much older than that.
To be sure, some of the things he describes about getting older (imagine, thinking that thirty was “old”! But at one point, we all thought that in our lives; indeed, the entire generation before us made “never trust anyone over thirty” a motto, which now seems ironic in light of the fact that members of their cohort have been running things in this country since about the time we got married – and the youngest of them were well over thirty at that point already. Although, seeing how we’ve been doing since then, they may have proven their point – or maybe just that they weren’t to be trusted with authority as a cohort) didn’t happen to me until much later. That, or I simply didn’t notice my back pain or crows’ feet until much later. I also didn’t burn the kind of energy that he, as a professional rocker, would have in his younger days, so I wouldn’t have felt that I was slowing down to the same extent.
But it is strange to see other people who I’m sure are older than myself who look so much younger than me (you didn’t fall into that category, since you were always younger than me – although, while I know it tickled you to be mistaken for my daughter, there were moments when I wasn’t thrilled to be thought of as that much older). What hair I still have has all but gone white – not so much salt-and-pepper gray, but actual white – although I suppose I should take comfort in the fact that, when I look in the mirror, I only see the white hair, and not the missing parts. Then again, the knowledge that other people, who are the ones who can’t help but see the cover of the book that I am, can see it doesn’t serve as encouragement. It seems like it’s all happened before it should have.
Then again, not everything that’s happened before its time has been bad; I did manage (thanks to you) to retire earlier than most people, and I’d like to think that I’m making good use of that time. I leave it to you to judge, though, as I know I have a blind spot at to the level of virtue in whatever it is I do. Like everyone else, I imagine what I do to be right in my own eyes; whether it truly is or not may be as invisible to me as the bald spot on the back of my head. It would be nice if you were here to keep me better on the straight and narrow.
Which leads to the most significant thing that has happened before its time; that of being widowed before my time. Of course, from a certain perspective, you’re that much worse off, since you actually died before your time; I’m just left here to cope with it with things like these letters and all the stuff that I’ve been talking to do about within them. Then again, to say you’re worse off assumes that life on earth is better than that in heaven, which seems quite ridiculous. At the same time, it feels inappropriate to complain about it, but I can’t help but state that it’s not a situation I enjoy.
I wish I could turn back the clock, and be able to act like I was younger, with all the friends I had when I was younger – especially you. I don’t know if I didn’t appreciate it all when I had it, or if the fact that those memories are so few and scattered that they’re so much more precious now than they were when they were happening, but I cling to what i can like a man after a shipwreck, wishing he still had his boat, because there’s so much sea around me, and precious little land.
Would that you could guide me toward land, honey, but in lieu of that, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 