The Secret Diary of Hendrik Groen, 83¼ Years Old

by Hendrik Groen

The real problem is insoluble. The way I see it, growing old follows the same trajectory as a baby developing into an adult, only the other way around. You go from physical independence to becoming more and more dependent on others. An artificial hip, a bypass, a pill here or there—all it does is paper over the cracks. If death takes too long to come, you end up as a sputtering old toddler in a diaper and with a runny nose. The voyage out, from zero to eighteen, is wonderful, challenging, exciting: you are about to make your own way in life. Around the age of forty you’re strong, healthy, and powerful. In the prime of life. Sadly, you usually don’t come to that realization until the descent has already begun, as, slowly and noiselessly, your horizons shrink and life becomes emptier. Until your daily goals and ambitions are whittled down to a cup of tea and a cookie—the old-folks’ version of the baby’s rattle.

Old people, like children, are always losing things, but they no longer have a mom to tell them where to look.

The three Rs apply not only to children, but also to the elderly: Rest, Recreation and Routine. Recreation is optional, but Rest and Routine are the cornerstones of this society.

A daily annoyance: packaging. Cans with tabs you can’t wedge your finger under, vacuum-sealed LIFT UP HERE corners too small to pull, childproof cleaning products, applesauce lids, impossible to twist open prosecco corks, blister packs: they’re all specially designed to make it as difficult as possible for feeble, trembling, old hands to manage.

Our calendars are completely blank—today, tomorrow, and the rest of the year. We have all the time in the world. We once complained about being overscheduled; now we’re thrilled to pieces if there’s something to jot down other than a doctor’s appointment.

Nasty character traits need an outlet. In contrast to what you’d expect, narrow-mindedness increases and tolerance lessens with the onset of old age. “Old and wise” is the exception rather than the rule. I

A nation’s level of civilization can be measured by the way it treats its oldest and weakest citizens.