Getting old. It’s something none of us can stop. Oh, we can slow things down a little bit here or there but time DOES march on.
I know this. I know lots of things about getting old. I mean, hey, I took care of my Grandmom in hospice and my Mom when she was getting ready to journey on. I saw lots of things happening to them as they slowed down. Some of it shocked me. Some of it didn’t. So why didn’t I think these things would apply to me when the time came? Not really sure. The proverbial rose-colored glasses? Maybe.
Let me back up a bit. My 50s were my best decade. I had just been released from the surgeon the night before my 50th birthday and I was rarin’ to go!!!! I had been told I was dying, but now I was strong, active, felt like I could conquer anything that had the audacity to jump in my way and I was just happy with life.
I started noticing a few things when I turned 60. I was forced to slow down a bit. I had to read things two, three, four or more times before it would sink in. I really had to pay attention to the directions while doing things I did instinctively before. At first I didn’t see it. Then I did. Then I REALLY figured out what was going on.
Seventy brought with it more of the same and much more severity of the same. All of a sudden, I had aches and pains in places I didn’t even know I had places!!!! Yes, I knew I had some physical problems. The doctor had predicted I’d end up in a wheelchair by 62. HAH!!!! I wanted to spit out that line from “Elf” about sitting on a throne of lies. These little Hobbit legs had carried me for a long time and they weren’t about to give up now. Or so I thought. Turns out, the only thing wrong with that statement was the age, 62. I didn’t need that chair at 62 but, by 72, it was a different story. Still, not all the time. Just every now and then. I had my trusty cane, Virgil, to lean on. Figured this would be enough to keep my wobbly butt upright. But every now and then I couldn’t even do that.
I prayed, I yelled, I screamed. . . . whatever you could do I did. Things didn’t change much. There was no way around this aging thing. I had to learn to slow down and, in some cases, slow down HARD. Do I know how? Yes. Do I want to? NO!!!! I want it to be like it was 40 years ago. I can hear the maniacal laughing from here. Not gonna happen.
So. . . . it’s time to learn how to slow down, how to moderate things, find different ways to do the things I love and still can do. And that’s the point of this blog as ain’t none of us gettin’ any younger. If you’re of an age, come on along with me. I HAVE to adapt. Maybe you do, too. Let’s work it together.
For your enjoyment, here’s the famous “Slowly I Turned” routine from the Three Stooges. Slowly is how I do most things these days. 😂🤣🤣😂