The Parties of Growing Old
Your invitation is not lost in the mail
I have been thinking about the strange little celebrations that come with growing older.
Not the big ones.
Not the milestone birthdays with sheet cakes and candles that drip wax onto the frosting.
I mean the quiet parties. The ones no one throws for you. The ones you stumble into without realizing you crossed a threshold.
There is the party you throw the first time you stand up and your knees make a sound that can only be described as “ancient door hinge.” No one else hears it, but you do. You pause. You look around.
You wonder if this is the beginning of the end or just the beginning of being forty-something. Either way, you have joined a club.
There is the party you host when you realize you can no longer eat certain foods after 8 p.m. without consequences. It is a very exclusive party. The dress code is sweatpants and regret.
There is the party you attend when you start talking to your doctor like a co-worker. You compare schedules. You make small talk. You joke about how many vials of blood they are taking this time, as I have done. You leave with a printout of your lab results and the unsettling awareness that you now care deeply about numbers you never knew existed.
There is the party you throw for yourself when you finally understand that sleep is not optional.
It is not a suggestion.
It is not a luxury. (Although the right bed can make it feel luxury!)
Sleep is the whole foundation of your sanity. You start protecting it like a dragon guarding treasure. You turn down plans. You say things like “I can’t start a movie at nine.” You feel no shame.
There is the party you join when you begin to notice your parents aging.
This is a quiet party; a tender one.
You look at their hands. You hear the slight tremor in their voice. You realize you are becoming the adult in the room. You do not remember signing up for this, but here you are, holding the responsibility like a fragile heirloom.
My own Mother has transformed before my eyes to a woman needing extra care, to needing a walker for assistance, to needing transportation everywhere. It takes a toll to provide this assistance and to see these changes.
There is the party you attend when you start losing people. Friends. Family. People you thought would be here longer.
The invitations to this party arrive without warning.
You never feel ready. You learn to carry grief in your pocket like a stone that never fully smooths out.
My Father passed from pancreatic cancer several years ago resulting in my processing of all sorts of experiences. His passing only further complicating my Mother’s aging that I highlighted.
There is the party you host when you realize your body is not the enemy. It is not a project. It is not a problem to solve. It is the place you live. The place that has carried you through every season and deserves kindness. You start treating it with a little more respect. You start listening to it; thanking it.
There is the party you join when you stop pretending you have to be impressive. You stop performing, almost stop caring!
You stop trying to outrun your own humanity.
You start telling the truth. You start laughing at yourself. You start letting people see the real you, not the curated version. It is the most freeing party of all.
Growing old is not one big celebration.
It is a series of small gatherings.
Some are joyful.
Some are painful.
Some are confusing. All of them shape you.
All of them invite you to pay attention. All of them remind you that life is not something you master. It is something you live.
And maybe that is the real party. The one where you finally understand that growing old is not a punishment.
It is a privilege. It is a chance to become more yourself. It is a chance to see the world with softer eyes. It is a chance to love the people around you with a little more tenderness.
If you are growing older, welcome. The party is already in progress. There is room for you.
As You Find Me (AYFM) is where Brad Hachez - a visionary neurodivergent creator - explores tech, faith, health, & life. Join the journey to streamline productivity, deepen relationships, & reflect on purpose with resilience, presence, and servant-hearted growth.