Tag Archives: aging

A Happy Birthday

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Recently for my 69th birthday, I had the exciting plan to clean out my clothes closets. I know, that doesn’t sound fun, right? But I actually enjoy purging stuff I bought ages ago and have yet to wear. Marie Kondo who wrote, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, says “Discard everything that does not spark joy.” Sadly, I can’t say any of my clothes are joy sparkers.

My sister Vicki’s birthday is two days after mine so our brother Bill planned to take us to dinner that night. But originally to celebrate my birthday, I planned to play tennis and have lunch with friends Hilary, Annette, and Laura. But Hilary had Covid so we scratched that. Since most of my friends were out of town I thought, closets here I come!

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Good To Go

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Recently I wrote about an optometrist discovering I have weird eyes in that the angle around the inside edges (to simplify a complicated explanation) is tilted in such a way that my eye fluid (yes, we have eye fluid), wasn’t draining like it should which could result in glaucoma and possible blindness if gone undetected. So a couple weeks ago an ophthalmologist made a hole in my left retina with a laser and on Friday he lasered the right . Let the draining begin!

Apparently as we age, it’s not just aches and pains we deal with. We can get something called shingles, which is said to be hiding in the bodies of adults over 50 who have had chicken pox. Yikes. Seems it plays hide seek with us so we never know when it’ll pop out, like Jack in the Box (the toy, not the fast food restaurant).

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Does Wisdom Really Come With Age?

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(I reprinted this post from 2013, which sadly is still relevant today.)

They say with age comes wisdom. I’m not so sure I believe that. You see, I’m not exactly a spring chicken so you’d think I’d be pretty smart by now, wouldn’t you? There’s no doubt I’ve learned stuff along the way that’s helped me navigate through life. But in some areas I’m still quite lacking. And for that I blame my poor memory. How can I acquire this wisdom if my memory is on strike?

For instance, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve misplaced my keys. When I walk into the house, I should have a routine where I put them, don’t you think? Sounds reasonable to me. If I had a routine it would go like this: place the keys in a bowl on the counter. How hard is that? Apparently very.

Where my keys should go

My mind is like a game of leap frog. It jumps from one thing to another. So by the time I exit the car, walk to the door, open it and walk in, I’m already on to another thought. I think I’ll make myself a grilled cheese sandwich then water the annuals. Oh, and I suppose I should fertilize while I’m at it. And so it goes…

Any conscious thought about keys became lost within the 20-foot span it took me to get into the house. Poof!

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Gaining on the Golden Years

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Busy, busy, oh so busy…therefore please enjoy this post from 2013 and I’ll be back next week…

Last year, after my 56th birthday, I began to understand what the phrase, “feeling your age,” actually entails. What caught me by surprise, however, is how it looks.

Evidently, my  appearance has betrayed me. Strangers no longer refer to me as “miss.” At some point, I stepped over that invisible threshold into a new reality. I am now known as “ma’am.”

me leaning on pole

Apparently this is how “ma’am” looks

Aging is sly the way it sneaks up on you. There are no bulletins to announce its arrival. It suddenly appears when you aren’t paying attention. Looking in the mirror one day, you wonder whose face is staring back. Personally, I never saw it coming.  Continue reading →

Let It Be Known

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getting older

Let it be known you are reading words written by an old person. At least that’s how our government now defines me since I’ve reached the ripe old age to receive Medicare. Send in the marching band, let the trumpets blare. Yours truly is 65!Now don’t get me wrong; I don’t feel an iota different than I did 10 days ago, back when I was 64. But being long in the tooth does have its perks:

I now notice when one is referred to as ma’am (no longer miss), one receives a different sort of attention. The kind that says, “Do you need help with that, ma’am?” And, “Here, let me do that for you, ma’am.” Turns out they’re happy to help. It’s one of the more pleasant aspects of being on the road to decrepitness.

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