Tuesday, September 14, 2021

The Childhood of Old Age

We've always thought about life in stages - infancy, childhood, adulthood, old age.  

We met on the cusp of Adulthood, in the old age of Childhood, and passed into the infancy of Adulthood together.  We moved through adulthood's middle two stages without major traumas (ok, maybe except for getting shot) to ourselves or those we love.  We were remarkably healthy and active and involved.

Lately, it's become obvious that we've moved into the infancy of Old Age.  

Everything hurts.

This morning our hands hurt...... all four of them. A dull ache, no desire to clench a fist or touch fingers to thumb - is this some rare contagious syndrome?  We lay in bed, our hands in front of our faces, turning them palm to back and around again, marveling at the addition of another body part to our list of aches and pains.

I'm not talking about my hip and its assorted sensations.  They are in a separate class.  It's my eyes, which get really tired as the night goes on.  There's no good reading light in the living room, so I've been augmenting my adjusted-with-contacts vision with my reading glasses for a few years.  My eyes never hurt until recently;  after a few hours with a good book my facial musculature now announces itself with authority.

There's more.  Last week I took out my distance glasses to watch late night tv - supplementing my contact once again.  My prescription was adjusted during the summer's Brief Reopening.  It's not that my eyes have changed, it's that they have less endurance......  just like the rest of me.

I cleaned the house before the new cleaning lady came to review the premises - doesn't everyone? I didn't want her to think we were slovenly, so I dusted and mopped the floors two days earlier than usual, throwing in loads of laundry along the way.  At a certain point, I realized that everything but my hair was telling me to stop working.

Some of it, of course, is my hip.  But we have great air conditioning and I was still covered in sweat  profusely perspiring  glowing .*  

I'm not complaining.  I'm merely stating facts.  Every day that the sun comes up and I am here to see it is, by definition, a good day.  I just wish I could stay awake and enjoy it a little longer.


  1. I can relate -- especially to the juggling of eye glasses.

  2. I guess we are about on par with one another, especially since we are the same age. My hands have hurt for the past year or so. Especially my thumbs. This summer has been the one where my face melts on a daily basis. I got concerned on Sunday, at church, because I was running around getting things ready for Rally Day, and wearing my mask. My face was melting and when I pulled out a tissue to blot all that sweat, my hair color came off on the tissue. All I could think of was Giuliani and the trail of hair color down his face while he was being grilled in some court. I had just had my hair done the day before, so the color was fresh. I shampooed it when I got home so as to not have that issue again in these hot days.

    1. Oh, that is funny/sad - you and Rudy in the same sentence, though ...
      Do our thumbs hurt from holding books and ebooks for hours on end when we'd otherwise be sharing the love with little ones?


Talk back to me! Word Verification is gone!