When Aging Came To Visit

Not much snow, but frozen solid!

Not much snow, but frozen solid!

It seems that 2016 was the year that the word AGING, started being used in conversation frequently around  my house, and as a result became a permanent resident. The twenty-five year old I still thought I was began to slow down. I noticed my body got stiffer and tired more quickly. I began rebelling against those things that I was supposed to accomplish on any given day. What took me fifteen minutes to do a few years ago took up to thirty, if not more precious minutes.

It was Bill who started it. At seventy-seven, he had knee replacement surgery early last January. My own right knee started hurting right after his surgery. I chalked it up to sympathy pains. I kept up my walking routine most days and continued with my pilates and yoga sessions. The main problem was when I was seated in the lotus position and ole Righty just didn’t want to stay bent up like a pretzel. I allowed myself straighten her out from time to time to ease the pain, but she still doesn’t like to do that. Now I’m noticing that when it’s very cold, like it was this past weekend (in the single digits),  the knee got very stiff and uncomfortable. Geez, Bill, why can’t you just keep your pain to yourself?

In early August when my sweetheart, Bill, was scheduled for shoulder replacement surgery in mid-September, my neck got stiff and both of my shoulders began to ache. More sympathy pains? Was it my rotator cuffs? Or was it those weighty burdens I carry around with me all day? Maybe it was the work of getting my memoir published, trying to stay caught up with blog posts, newsletters, check books, laundry, cooking, and the other chaotic day to day things I didn’t have any desire to do, or enough hours in the day in which to do them.

While Bill’s surgeries are healing beautifully, something is still amiss. It’s the brain. I discovered in November that I was a year ahead of myself. I kept telling people I’d be seventy-five on my birthday when I was only going to be seventy-four. Hooray! I gained a year! Things can’t be going south yet, can they? But then words became a big problem. I knew which word I wanted to use in a blog post or a crossword puzzle but I just couldn’t find it.

The urge to nap became a frequent visitor and is also now in residence. I need at least thirty minutes to close my eyes and drift off into a dreamy, relaxed state. I also find myself ready for bed at nine most evenings. My early morning walks out in the cold and windy mornings don’t carry the thrill they used to. I’m now waiting till it gets a bit warmer.

What is happening to me?  I think of  my cross-country skiing days in northern Vermont, when I couldn’t wait to get out into the frigid air and be the first creature making tracks in the deep snow.

Bill is falling into step with me.  When I asked if he wanted to go out to dinner and a movie the other afternoon, he said, “It’s too cold! Too windy!”  When I asked what’s gotten into him, he says, “I’m seventy-seven. I’m old!”  If he is old, so am I, right?

Sunday morning after it warmed up a bit, I took a quick twenty minute walk to check out the condition of the streets as we’d had an inch or so of snow the day before. It was nothing compared to the winter storms we’d experienced up north.  Most churches were closed for the day, and few cars passed down our street. I needed a few groceries. It was cold. It was windy. The street was very icy. And no neighbors were out … even the the young families who’ve recently moved here with their kids. Where were the sleds and the snowmen? Where was the laughter and the fun?

I wore a wool hat, gloves, boots, and my down coat. I felt quite comfortable, but by the time I got back home I decided I didn’t need those groceries after all. I decided to cuddle up in a wool blanket, next to our old-fashioned radiators, and read. If the youngsters in the neighborhood don’t go out in the cold, maybe it isn’t old age after all! Maybe I’m just getting smarter.

Here is a very moving meditation on aging by Parker Palmer.  He has such a wonderful way of expressing what growing older is all about.  He’s inspired me to just go with it and enjoy.