"I'm somebody now, Harry. Everybody likes me. Soon, millions of people will see me and they'll all like me. I'll tell them about you, and your father, how good he was to us. Remember? It's a reason to get up in the morning. It's a reason to lose weight, to fit in the red dress. It's a reason to smile. It makes tomorrow all right. What have I got Harry, hm? Why should I even make the bed, or wash the dishes? I do them, but why should I? I'm alone. Your father's gone, you're gone. I got no one to care for. What have I got, Harry? I'm lonely. I'm old." - Sara Goldfarb, Requiem for a dream.

I like to think that growing old is something everyone fears, not just me. I remember by old literature teacher, also a television star (so naturally I had never heard of him till my grandma's driver pointed him out and asked if it was really him) once told us that he would prefer to shoot his brains out when he was forty than go through old age. I recall being a bit shocked at that because at the time I though nobody could have it better than rich/famous people and being able to retire and rest on your laurels would be something you looked forward to. Imagine a 24/7 vacation. Forty is the real milestone. Up until that age, you can still convince yourself that you're only as old/young as you feel and try to ignore the fact that soon you'll be old, arthritic, toothless, incoherent and unable to control your bladder. What's worse is that your children will have moved out, be well into their lives and not need you anymore. The tedious of your existence would be broken by your children distractedly bringing their kids over on sundays to visit. Noisy brats, the lot of them, who have barely waited for your response to their customary salaams before running inside your room and turning on the TV. Your children, to be polite and respectful, will let you sit in on their conversations and everytime you assert a strong opinion, eyes will roll, glances will be exchanged with half smiles. Poor old man/woman, they'll be saying as their eyes meet. He/She still thinks we live in the forties/sixties/eighties/nineties when things were that simple. They're different now. We are different now. We know it all, and we allow you to sit here and bask in our wisdom and maybe you'll grab some crumbs and learn how the world works today.

Soon, though, the smug children watch their own children getting older and smarter and bolder. They don't hang on to their every word anymore. They roll their eyes (just like daddy) and smirk on the side of the face that the old man can't see. Times have changed and now the parents begin to get scared, really scared. They start to give sentimental speeches about family being the most important thing in the world and how God said that he (she?) who cares for his parents will go straight to heaven.

Old age is creeping up on you. Maybe you're the next Sara Goldfarb. Maybe I am.