Silent ageism is not acceptable

Whenever a child or a young adult triumphs over a life-threatening illness or  injury, their story becomes the likely source of inspirational quotes, novels  and documentaries.

Their victory comes from a passion for living, unflappable resilience and unconditional love and support from family and friends.

Young people confronted with abominable circumstances are vulnerable, sensitive and lost.

Their war will be long and arduous, and they need an army of medical professionals and loved ones to conquer, battle by battle, skirmish by skirmish.

Unfortunately, not all victory flags get to be raised. How often do we hear these heartfelt expressions at untimely funerals?

“Cut off in the prime of their life.”

“Gone too soon, but never forgotten.”

“A life that burned bright, though far  too brief.”

“Our hearts ache for a future that will never be.”

I’ve witnessed and experienced  several unfair dismissals that leave a hollow feeling of injustice, resentment  and disbelief.

Some people find comfort in their faith, while others pragmatically accept the bad with the good. But one thing is certain: death is a terrifying prospect. It is the No.1 basic human fear. Reviewing the above expressions, I wonder:

• how long is a life’s prime?
• when is too soon?
• what is too brief?
• who knows what the future holds?

When a mature or elderly person faces similar dismal prospects, journalists and documentary producers are not at their front door playing elbow hockey to get the scoop. It’s just not box office. Loved ones become kind and sympathetic, carers and medical professionals are comfortable telling how it is, and legal advisors offer assistance with end-of-life plans.

The whole scene takes on an aura of inevitability and resignation.

At what point does the sense of purpose become irrelevant? When is  their prime spent? What constitutes a ‘good innings’? How much future is considered insignificant?

There is a perception that once we reach a certain age (I beg to be enlightened as to what age this is or if there is an algorithm to determine it), we are expected to accept our lot and fearlessly face immortality. The polite process is to expire gracefully. Bullsh*t!

As stated earlier, the prime human fear is that of dying. This does not diminish with age. In fact, it intensifies the closer we  come to the reality that the tap on the shoulder is unavoidable.

That said, only under the most extreme circumstances is it possible that capitulation could be an option. We are born to live and live we will, with all our being, for as long as we can.

Our future represents our life, and we must respect it and do it proud.

I don’t dwell on what they may say at my funeral. I won’t be alive to hear it.

As long as I can look my loved ones, friends and colleagues in the eye while  I’m wriggling and creating a nuisance, knowing I’m still having a crack, I’m  doing okay. Who knows? I might draw on the inspiration of those younger and older than myself who have beaten their demons and kick on productively for ages, and perhaps inspire others to live a cool life before they grow cold.

Age is just a number. Screw the numbers and screw the perceptions. If you want it, go for it. If you can, do it.

Let the medical staff close your eyes on your behalf before they pull the sheet over your face.

If this article resonates with you, comment at charliegriffithscoaching. com/contact