I'm Major Jackson, and this is the slowdown.

Shortly after my 45th birthday, I booked an appointment for an annual physical.

Dr. Green performed the full battery of expected tests, blood pressure, lung exam, cold

stethoscope on my back, a check of my tonsils, you know, say, ah, a month later, I returned

with the request that we do another round of blood tests and assessments.

He obliged, but with raised eyebrows made a joke that I must like wearing hospital

gowns. The results all clear. Several months later, I was back in Dr. Green's office,

who realized what was going on. He grabbed both my hands and his, look me in the eyes

and said, Major, you are in great health. After checking my family medical history, he

noticed that my mother died of cancer several weeks before her 45th birthday. So it wasn't

surprising. I was experiencing the distinct anxiety of having outlived her. Suddenly, my

mortality was within sight. I had lived until then, having not considered death as a part

of my future. How foolish.

The remainder of our visit consisted of specific instructions to take daily walks, maintain

a healthy diet, and to sleep. When he was done, he said, I'll see you next year.

Had my mother lived another year or two, she would have likely survived much longer. The

medical community has improved greatly its ability to detect and treat illnesses such

as cervical cancer, and more breakthroughs are around the corner. Also, people are healthier

and aware of life-extending habits like daily exercise and meditation. But our bodies

are destined to decline. We can't reverse the process of aging. That's the stuff of science

fiction. Today's poem gets at the truth of getting older. We embark on the graceful

journey of living toward the body's end and celebrate along the way.

...