Just a State of Mind

I've always considered age to be a state of mind.  Ryan seems to have been born old.  By the time he was twenty-two he was all ready feeling sixty or so.  Me, I have finally broken out of my twenties.  But only just barely.  No amount of wrinkles or gray hair have been able to force me to face the reality that time is swiftly passing us by.  In fact, I even giggle to myself that with our differing views of aging, pretty soon we are going to have a May-December romance! 

However, Ryan recently sat me down to discuss the effects that age are having.  For the past six weeks he has been seriously hampered by pain in his hip.  Pain is not unusual for Ryan.  I think he lives with some every day.  So when he is worried, I know it is considerable.  When he actually breaks down and goes to the doctor, then things are pretty severe.  And when he finally wants to talk about it, well, I know that the situation is significant.

Now, I'm not a stranger to serious, unwanted, or uncomfortable discussions.  Like many of you, I've had to answer the "What's a tampon?" or "How do babies come out?" sorts of questions.  No problem.  By the time I've gone through it with Lauren, I don't even break a sweat.  On top of that, I've had to sit through meetings about students who have been abused or are abusers themselves.  I've talked to kids about cutting themselves, taking drugs, and having sex.  One year I even had to discuss masturbation with a girl in my class.  (OK, I did sweat over that one!)

But none of those shook me like this discussion did.  For the past twenty years I've always seen Ryan as indestructible.  My own personal Superman.  Sure, he has a slight limp, and a tendency to get sinus infections.  But other than that, I've always figured he could make, fix or do anything.  Yet here he was, telling me that he wasn't sure he could keep up that pace any more.

Thankfully, things have improved since then.  Soon he will hear from the doctor.  In the meantime, he's found some pain-killers that are helping.  He's learning to slow down...a little bit.

I'm learning that Superman is overrated.  That kryptonite is real, but not necessarily a bad thing.  Mostly, I'm reminded that I'll take the intelligent, thoughtful, generous, thirty-nine year old I've got now over that muscle-bound twenty-year old any day!