I was in class last Thursday and although I'm sure most of my classmates found the lecture very interesting, I had a tough time keeping my lids open.
*note to self: Erik Erikson's psychosocial stages of development makes for very good reading material for nights when sleep seems elusive*
I snapped back into reality, however, when the sound waves resonating from the general vicinity of my professor reached my ears, bounced along the necessary boundaries of my ear canal, hit my ear drums, converted into energy my nerves were capable of carrying and were then transduced into information my mind comprehended.
*another note to self: Do not listen to much to your Sensation and Perception class. It will turn you into Frankenstein and rip your non-existent social life into shreds. *
"My father is 94. And there's nothing wrong with him except for the fact that he's, well, OLD.", my professor uttered. It would be good to add at this point that my professor is already married, has children, and has a head crowned with an abundant amount of gray hair. He is also considered to be an esteemed member of the SENIOR faculty in my department.
OLD. OLD. OLD. OLD. OLD. OLD. OLD. OLD.
The word seemed to echo in my head for an eternity. The way he said it, it was like being old was a disease that MUST BE AVOIDED AT ALL COSTS. As if going through the cycle of aging was tantamount to having your arm cut off, being diagnosed with cancer and having on and off kidney failure. It was as if he, himself, wasn't...(you get the idea)
Maybe I over-reacted when he said that but believe me, you'll love the next inspiring thought that enters his head (Hallmark should make cards with this on the front cover. They'd make a killing out of all the children who would buy it for their own LOVABLE dads):
"I really think he's ready to die. It's just that it hasn't happened yet."
Ah yes, with age does come true wisdom.