Tommy Tiernan

The joy of ageing

I’ve noticed meself squinting a fair bit recently and have realised that the eyes are starting to go. ’Tis inevitable, suppose, but rather than get glasses, I’ve decided to take it as a hint and stop reading altogether. Me body is sending me a message: “You’ve read enough, Tom. Time to abandon the books and head out into the world”. A yearning for the experience of encounter, rather than the theory of literature. Aye, listen to the body. Things change; youth has its advantages, but age has its adventures.

So there’ll be no hearing aid when that time comes, either. No. Body is saying, “That’s it, I’m done with listening”. Sure, what else is there to hear, anyway? Forty-eight years of listening: I reckon I must have heard most of it by now. Time then, as Flann O’Brien says, to retire to the privacy of me own mind.

There’ll be no false teeth when all me own fall out. No, just soup and smoothies from now till doomsday. And a whiskey in the evenings to keep the liver lively. No Viagra, either; I’ll be all hands, missus, if that’s OK.

And if the knees buckle and the hips are shot, there’ll be no artificial replacements, thank you very much. Sure, don’t I have four strapping sons to carry me round the place on a sedan like the King of Sheba?

Aye. There’s wisdom in this collapse. No heart transplants, thanks. Another man’s heart? What if he’s from Cork? I’d never get over meself. No hair transplants. Why would I need a hair transplant anyway? Don’t I have a hat? It’s undignified, all this panic and mending — let it all fade wonderfully, I say. Like it all bloomed into view, of its own accord, let it all bloom out too. Just as the spring came into being, so, then, let the leaves fall off the trees in the autumn, and not be going back and Sellotaping them onto the branches. There is a season, turn, turn.

Having said all that, I am on the anti-cholesterol medication to stop the heart from bursting open after years and years of cake and cream, and I have been known to take a painkiller going to bed at night for fear of the hangover I was surely due the following morning, but these are the exceptions. Other than these, I declare my intention to let meself get worn out, organ by organ, till I’m soft and easy, like a third-hand corduroy jacket. I see myself walking around with the dignity of an old cathedral. Perhaps one with the roof blown off and a few windows missing, but the bell still rings if you pull it hard enough.

And if I start to stoop, so be it: I’ll end up walking forward, looking backwards through me own legs. An appropriate position for a clown.

And the wife would be with me. We’d walk into other people’s houses and just climb into bed for the day. Two grey angels in dotage. Kissing each other like a pair of aul’ plungers. Ordering Champagne in fancy hotels and then telling the man we’ve no money.

Now, I wouldn’t be a big fan of pain, so I’ll have a constant supply of morphine suppositories by my side. I hear they’re safe enough. No one ever got addicted that way.

Some people want to live forever. Well, off with them. What do you think forever is? Does it sound exciting, forever? Well, let me tell you, forever is just a now that never stops. The endless now. Could you handle that? A present you’ll never escape from. Would you hang on there for an eternity? No. What makes this moment so sweet is the luck and the shortness of it. I would like, some day near the end, to find myself sitting beside all the boys and girls that I was in primary school with.

I remember their names. Derek, Lisa, Catherine, Robbie, Noel... I would like to see them all again and tell them how much I like them.

We could have a final ceremony together, all of us there in our late 90s, making our last Holy Communion. We’d get huge rosettes, and our kids would be so proud as we ambled up the aisle forgetting which way to turn, and they’d take us out to a bar afterwards for soft drinks and ice cream.

There is so much to look forward to in this ageing crack. Let the games begin.

“What do you think forever is? Forever is just a now that never stops. Could you handle that?”