Examples of Time

       Getting old is a as natural as the river behind my house. For a long time I did not want to admit that I was getting old. After awhile, in the face of overwhelming evidence, I can no longer hide the fact of what the rest of the world already knows, I really am getting old. The deterioration of my vision, the fact that I seem to feel every little ache and pain as I never have before, and the overwhelming preoccupation with my body weight. It doesn't mean that I think that I am ready to move into the local retirement home or subscribe to AARP yet, but I am realizing that I am not the spring chicken I used to be anymore, and I  completely regret the wasteful excesses of my youth that cause my discomfort today.
             In my youth I had the vision that would allow me to spot an ant on a duck's behind at a hundred yards as my father likes to tell it. I can say that this was probably mostly true, my eye exam when I enlisted in the service was better than twenty-twenty.  Although why I would want to look at a duck's behind always escaped me and Dad could never explain why I would want to either. Regardless, as time flowed onward to whatever destination it is always working towards, my eyes have slowly lost the ability they once had to focus on that ant and right now I have to sqint to see the duck as well. I think of all the times I stayed up past my bedtime reading under the covers with a flashlight, the marathon computer work that I had to do for the service or even all the times that I was out in the sun without my sunglasses and I have to wonder if my vision would be as bad as it is if I had not done all those things. Maybe, maybe not, I will never know. I do know that I now cannot read the print on cans, boxes, bags, and even my paycheck. Yesterday I had forgotten my glasses and had to ask Stephanie at the bank to read the balance to me. Quite often I have to have my children read me instructions on the labels so that I know what I am doing. It grates on my independent soul like salt in an open wound. It is a small inconvenience though, and at least I do not have the accompanying headaches.
             As I get older I more and more of the aches and pains that I have acquired through the years. I know now why people speak of athletes as having a limited career. If these aches and pains are what they feel every day, then I understand completely. My feet swell and ache, my back is stiff every morning, I have tendinitis in both shoulders, although it is worse in my right one. Guess what hand I use most of the time. I can barely lift a coffee pot on rainy days. Due to an accident in 2001 I have quite a bit of metal in my left forearm so again on cold, wet, days there is aches and pains there as well. I remember as a youngster I could run, jump, dance the night away. Now I get winded thinking about it. If I had known how I was going to feel as an aging adult, maybe I wouldn't have got on the four wheeler behind a drinking driver, or I certainly would have said something when asked to shovel heavy, wet, snow over eight foot snow banks a couple of years ago. Had I known then what it was going to do to my future comfort, or lack there of, I would have definitely refused to do it. The long and short of it, as I have already stated, is that we spend our youth doing what ever we want and we spend our middle age regretting the excesses that we did as youngsters and dreading what we are to look forward to as oldsters.The aches and pains only get worse as I get older, they never really go away, each twinge reminding me of a time that I was simply having too much fun, and not realizing the future price that I would have to pay, daily.
            Another sign that I am growing older would be the regrettable slowing down of my natural metabolism. No longer can I eat anything, and everything in my sight with no more consequence then walking through a field of flowers. I have always liked food, alot. I still try to eat as if I was cramming for finals in high school when I ate candy bars three or four times a day and downed them alongside cans of Pepsi with no consequences except my father's wallet was a bit thinner. My metabolism was high enough that after giving birth I was in my pre-pregnancy clothes a week later. That is not an exaggeration. Now, today, if I even think about chocolate I'll put on two or three new pounds. The extra weight has caused me to break the laws of gravity in places policemen can't . How my itty-bitty little legs are holding up my weight I will never know, but they do and it is intensely uncomfortable for them, and my feet. I am so uncomfortable that I have begun doing research on I word I heard once. Diet. Even the sound of the word reminds me of death. Die-t I am now wearing pants that the federal budget could fit into and I truely hope I can get through this holiday season without outgrowing everything. Again.
              There is something inheirantly wrong with the fact that we have all our health and vigor in our youth, when we are to numb to realize what a gift it is and that it should not be taken advantage of. Someone, who shall remain nameless, has a real mean streak for that one.  There are more examples that I am getting older that I could list, but these are the ones that I am most familiar with. I honestly regret some of those excesses that I was too numb to think about and now have no one but myself to blame for them. They are the ones that rear their awful rotten heads on a daily basis and force me to remember that life goes on and on and nothing in the world will make me one day younger. It is a good thing that at least my knowledge is increasing along with my aches and pains, and my waistline. Now at least I know when I look at something I can tell if it is going to be a bad idea or not, and with the wisdom of my increasing age I can look at something and realize that I really don't want to do that. Somehow that thought percolates into the part of my brain that handles my actions. Must be because I can't really remember what it was I wanted to do...