Wrapped Up Again

Humans must transform themselves to progress. At times in the lifespan, we are in the cocoon, so comfortable and so hidden from the world around us. But then we get the urge to escape and we scratch and claw to get out of that womb. We want our wings and our beauty and our freedom, not giving thought to the safety we left, but we go flitting about, happily interacting with the new environment we have placed ourselves in.

I've never given much thought as to how long a butterfly lives or if they just fade away. But humans do that. We fade away. It's called aging. And we lose our relevance. For all the fight we had to get out into the world, and to live out our days soaking in the sunshine and showing off our beautiful colors and patterns that make us unique, the truth is when our wings have weakened, the world seems to want us to go back to that wrapped up prison and out of sight. We are silenced.

The grandchildren that we doted on so fondly and showered with gifts and kisses now call us "Boomer" as if we are amusingly just dismissed. Our children flirt with the idea that because we are slower now, that somehow dementia has crept in. In place of being a necessity in their lives, we are teetering on becoming a burden.

But the final blows come when we see that our beauty and youthful spring in the step have danced its last dances. But we still try. We fight to maintain independence, fight to be needed once again, and fight to be desired.

Aging is humbling. Acceptance comes hard. Self-respect and dignity and purpose are fleeting at times. We face limits and boundaries and hard truths. There are no more transformations now...just the fading.

Every bit of wisdom and grit that has caused us to survive, our soul demands for it to be shared, but nobody seems to care to listen. They can't hear us. They are too busy doing their own flitting about.