This morning, I dragged my old bones out of bed, hobbled to the kitchen, and put on a fresh pot of coffee. So far, so good. Hubby had a VA appointment, so it was just my two four-legged girls and me.
When I opened the microwave oven, there sat the salt shaker laughing in my face. I didn’t put it there. The girls said they didn’t put it there. So that leaves one other person. I just shook my head and laughed.
Seniors get a lot of eye-rolling, head-shaking, and heaving sighs, and with good reason. We’re slow, forgetful, can’t hear, can’t see, and sometimes forget where we parked the car before realizing we haven’t even left the house!
Yesterday, my husband checked us out of the restaurant, and I saw the panic in his eyes. “I can’t find my card! I must have left it at home. Honey, get your card out.” I dug out my wallet and handed him the card as the elderly cashier sat utterly confused. “Sir? Are you looking for your card? It’s right here. You just handed it to me!”
Well, that’s not so bad considering we both got up, got dressed, and before heading out the door, I said, “Ya know what? I don’t have a doctor’s appointment today. It’s not until next week. And guess what else? You didn’t miss your VA appointment; it’s tomorrow!”
Some months drag by like a snail in slow motion. Other months leave you scratching your head, wondering if you slept through it. You batted your eyes, and poof! It disappeared!
And working in the yard. That’s a barrel of laughs. We’re like two old turtles trying to cross the road before getting squashed and eaten by a big, fat, ugly buzzard and wishing we had when morning rolls around and we realize we’re not dead because our bodies are screaming bloody murder.
Old age isn’t for sissies. We either get up and keep going or get run over on life’s hazardous highway. Some days, you feel like roadkill, and all you did was sit and twiddle your thumbs all day. Doesn’t matter. Just trying to remember stuff, like doctor’s appointments, if you took your meds, brushed your dentures, or fed the dogs, sucks the life out of you.
But, at 79, my husband and I are blessed. We’re still breathing, kicking, and taking care of ourselves. We’re still in our home, still cooking and cleaning, and keeping up the yard the best we can. Some days are so tough that I think about signing myself into a nursing home. But just remembering the smell knocks that stupid notion out of my head.
And besides. There’s always gonna be days that keep you laughing your head off. And who doesn’t need a good laugh at any age these days?
Straight From the Heart 