I have dealt with some grumpy old men. Some scowled, some barked. Some just glared and wouldn’t talk. I hope I don’t get grumpy. I hope I haven’t.
I have some grandchildren. Not as many as others, but I’m not in a race. I don’t want to have their memories of me as grumpy. So, I need to be careful about how I grow old.
The pains of aging can wear us down. Aching joints, creaking bones don’t make for a rosy countenance. But they are what we bear, us old folks. Let us not burden others with our pains. A rosy countenance goes a long way.
Folly is, most times, in the eyes of the beholder. Rarely does it come to a full community consensus. The stupid decisions of the next generation will not be made wiser with a scowl or frown. So, I need to practice a smile while I listen to my neighbor’s advice. It gets harder when we talk about politics, but it would serve me well to practice.
Old age doesn’t guarantee wisdom. Keep that in mind.
And crooked, chipped, even missing teeth are no excuse to hide a smile. The happiest man I knew had a bald head and a missing front upper tooth he showed when he regularly beamed. I asked him about it. He laughed and grinned as he told me about unhooking a log chain over a load. He flipped it to see if it was loose and the hook came right over and caught his front chopper.
Friends help. They really do. To have friends you have to be a friend. That means keeping in touch. That means getting down off the ladder or out from under the car to have a conversation. You might have to cross over the road. It means you care when you show an interest. Friends care.
Healthy habits keep us oldsters happier. It’s a good example for the grandkids to let them know you eat healthy things on a regular schedule. They don’t need to know about your bowel habits.
Interest and engagement in your community, things beyond cleaning your gutters or changing the oil, also keep you healthy. You don’t have to scowl to make your point. Smile when you testify before the city council about their stupid plan for sewage treatment. They, and you and your grandchildren will listen more intently and will be more likely to hear your words. Who knows, maybe they’ll come to know your thoughts.
Some of the grumpy folks I’ve come to know have just adopted their demeanor as a default. Like the mustache or the hair color, old habits die hard. If you find yourself grumpy, try a change. If you are a quiet, reserved grumpy person, maybe you need to speak up. If you are a loudmouth grump, maybe you should try being quiet.
Some folks take pride in their grumpiness. It suits them. For some reason, like the mustache or the hair color, it’s just what they have always done. Then, it’s on the rest of us to decide if we want to deal with them. Grumpy makes it hard. Maybe they want it to be hard.
But I want my grandkids to know me. I want them to have some memories of me that don’t involve a scowl or frown. I’ll work on it.
I’ve focused on grumpy old men because that’s what I fear becoming. My daughters would call me sexist, so, let me expand this conversation to women. I’ve known grumpy women too, young, and old. It’s not a male specialty, though, for some reason, we are the icon. Maybe it’s because women live longer. Happy people live longer. Come on you guys, let’s learn something in our old age.