One For The Ages

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November 14, 2014 by T. Gregory Argall

I think my head is shrinking.

I have had my current pair of glasses for about two and a half years and they have always fit firmly on my head, resting securely atop my nose, their arms wrapped over my earknobs.

But recently, over the last week or two, my glasses have been falling off my face with astounding regularity. The glasses are the same as they’ve been since I got them, so obviously the problem is the size of my head. It’s smaller.

It’s just one of the many ways in which my body is rebelling against me. Back spasms. Weather-sensitive joints. Angry knees.
No, really. Seriously angry knees. Especially the right one. That knee doesn’t like doing anything.
I had the hiccups Wednesday night and I nearly slipped a disk in my back.

My body never acted this way when I was younger. Of course, I’m a bit bigger now than I was then. Believe it or not, I once weighed 8 pounds, 3 ounces. I’ve had some serious weight-gain since then. In less than five decades, I’ve put on over 250 pounds.
I’m taller, too, but I think the vertical growth leveled off years ago.

I suspect that all of these various, seemingly unrelated factors are somehow connected, that together they are indicative of aging and getting older. I think I’m probably fine with that.

I’ve got over 47 years behind me and, dammit, I’ve earned each and every one of those years by being alive the whole time.
How many people can say that, huh?
Okay, probably everyone. But none them actually do.
Instead they’ll just bitch and moan about getting old until it’s the only thing they talk about. If you make the mistake of saying, “Hi, how are you?” they’ll actually tell you, and it will probably take a while.
Before you can say, “exploratory colonoscopy,” you’re trapped at an organ recital… “My kidneys this, and my gallbladder that, and my liver etc.”

People seem to think that getting old and growing old are the same thing.
They are wrong.

There are significant parts of my brain (and my mind) that revel in childish behaviour. It amuses me, and as long as I have the muscle control needed to smile and laugh, I intend to do so as often as possible.
Among other benefits, this approach helps me cope with getting older. Sure, it’s bordering on denial, but it works for me.

Now I just need to find some painless staples to keep my glasses from falling off my face and I’ll be ready for anything.

Try to be nice to each other.




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