Psalm 118:24 says, “This is the day that the Lord hath made. I shall rejoice and be glad in it.”
(It doesn’t say I have to like it.)
The Association of Arthritic Retired People (also known as AARP) sent ME an invitation to join their little club yesterday. A whole day before my fiftieth birthday. That’s low. Really, really low.
There have been signs that I’m no longer a “spring chicken” – as my mother likes to say – but mostly I choose to ignore them. I may not run as fast as I once did, have a complexion as smooth as porcelain, or look like Meg Ryan. But I can’t afford her plastic surgeon.
Aging is hard…on the arteries, lower back, feet, and some people’s heads. Mostly it’s hard on our sense of reality. People think you just gradually become accustomed to the change. The truth is, every day you look in the mirror and wonder who the heck is looking back at you. Okay, maybe without glasses or a magnifying mirror, things seem about the same. The blurriness just sags downward.
I guess now I’ll be shopping in the Sunday paper coupon circular. They always have those ads for elastic-waist pants and comfortable Velcro, soft-soled shoes. I’ll probably buy my collection of knick-knacks there too, cause I know old people are supposed to have a lot of knick-knacks sitting around the house.