The Secret Diary of Hendrik Groen, 83¼ Years Old

by Hendrik Groen

Well, the weather is fine, the food is passable, and with the help of a handful of pills the aches and pains aren’t troubling me very much today. In short: life is good.

But on the other hand, if you can’t be bothered to give things that don’t immediately interest you a chance, you risk being an old stick-in-the-mud.

When you’re young, you can’t wait to grow up. As an adult, until about the age of sixty, you want above all to stay young. But when you’re as old as the hills, you’ve got nothing left to strive for. That is the essence of the emptiness of life in here. There are no more goals. No exams to pass, no career ladders to climb, no children to raise. We are too old, even, to babysit the grandchildren.

Children laugh approximately a hundred times a day. Adults only about fifteen. Somewhere along the line we lose the inclination.

Over the past two years the emptiness was slowly but surely growing unbearable, but look…suddenly I have Eefje, I have Graeme, Grietje, Edward, Antoine and Ria. It isn’t time to kick the bucket just yet.

We haven’t much time left, yet we have all the time in the world. We should be in a hurry, but have almost nothing left that’s worth hurrying for.

Something exciting to look forward to is crucial to keep up one’s zest for life.

Loneliness can sometimes feel even worse when you’re with other people.

And after that trip, I’ll have to come up with another plan. As long as there are plans, there’s life. This afternoon I will go out and buy a new diary.