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.