No matter what I do, or say, or think - no matter what external forces bear down on me there is one overriding element in my life that defines life as I know it: I'm living in my tenth decade. It's impossible to escape. It's the Who and What I am.
Of course, I am quite happy to be alive even in light of a regular shopping list of ailments, some of which requiring heroic effort to hold at bey. There's hardly a system in my body that isn't under the watch-care of the medical community.
There isn't a day that passes without a reminder of my diminishing abilities. This is a cautionary tale. Your chance of growing old is better than ever, but growing old is not a free ride. It's a toll road. The toll is collected in terms of those afore mentioned diminishing abilities. At first you won't notice the changes but they persist.
The community at large are often aware of your limitations before you completely accept that not so subtle reality. They say things like, "Are you still driving?" Well yes I am driving. Why wouldn't I still be driving? Think about it.
Within the past four years I have had the unfortunate experience of falling unexpectedly several times. The fiirst time I broke my arm while turning around in my kitchen. More recently I fell while walking in the neighborhood. I ordered a walking cane from Amazon. It helped. My doctor told me to get a walker with wheels and a seat. I said, you're kidding? He wrote out a prescription for it. I laughed. He said (without smiling) Do it.
My son David turned sixty five this week. For his birthday he took me to Minute Maid Park to watch the Astros play the Red Sox. He suggested that I use the walker. It was a life saver. People were deferential. It made life easier - and safe. The Sox won. I had a beer - hotdog - fantastic seats off the mezzanine. Rest room within a few yards. David did the driving. I'm adjusting.
