This week, I lost a close friend I had known since we were just five years old. We grew up together, completing our K-12 schooling in my home country, and stayed in touch through the years. Every time I went “back home,” we made it a point to meet, and spend time with our mutual friends.
Her passing in midlife, from natural causes, has been a reminder of life’s uncertainty. She was an only child, and a caregiver to her elderly and ailing parents, who are now in their early 80s. It’s a reversal of what we often assume, that children will outlive their parents.
Last year, I wrote about how “time waits for no one.” We live as though our days are infinite, yet they are undeniably limited. In that post, I shared the story of a caregiver who passed away before the parent she cared for—a stark reminder of how unpredictable life can be. Now, the same scenario has unfolded for my friend.
Her death has left me reflecting not only on time but also on how we perceive and live our lives. My friend and I had very different views of life, shaped by our unique experiences and lifestyles after grade school. She often spoke of feeling “old” in middle age, though we were only five weeks apart. In contrast, I see middle age as the start of a new chapter, a time to explore, create, challenge physically and mentally, and grow.
Is being ‘old’ tied to a number, the years we have lived compared to the maximum human lifespan or regional life expectancy? Or is it a mindset, shaped by how we approach our years?
I’ve met people in their 80s who radiate curiosity and a zest for life. At the same time, I’ve encountered people in their 40s who are treating life as if it’s already over. This disparity makes me believe that “being old” has less to do with age and more with how we choose to live, rather than to exist.
