Sunday, November 3, 2013


Have you noticed the side effects of “older age” slowly creeping in?
I have. If you are an early 1950’s baby- like me, you have probably noticed a few changes in how you feel these days. It seemed to begin at age 60 and is becoming more noticeable now.
How many times do you boldly walk upstairs arriving on the landing, having no idea why you’re standing there or what your motive for climbing the stairs was in the first place.
Happens to me all the time.
There are times I fling open the back door, walk across the deck, open the garage door and walk inside- only to wonder what in hell I walked in for in the first place.
We all do this. We take them off. Place them down somewhere and then spend five minutes re-tracing our steps until we find them again. What a waste of time!
Once in the summer as we were leaving the house, I said to Tom-
“Oh gee, I forgot my sunglasses.”
He looks at me and says-
“They’re on your face!”
Oops. The jokes on me and so are my sunglasses!
How’s that for feeling old?
Young folk in stores call me “sir” and “Mister Reid”- when they know my name- all the time.
It is a form of respect I know, but really?
A Sir?
Inside I feel like I am 40. I think like 40.
Okay, a mature 40.
I do things 40ish, yet I look in the mirror when brushing my teeth and wonder who the old fellah is with all the age spots on his face and grey in his hair.
It can’t be me- can it?
I need two pairs of glasses. One for reading. One for distance.
My left foot- the heel actually, is so sore some days, it’s difficult to walk with a smile.
I am hoping acupuncture will fix it.
I have a patch of skin on my cheek which the Doctor says is not skin cancer but it won’t go away even with a prescription cream.
I rake leaves and my back aches.
I get burning indigestion from certain foods and to top it all off I have recently been saddled with a brand new medical condition that resulted from lifting an object that was dangerously heavy. That is being looked after too by my chiropractor.
I am hoping for the best.
Last week I was out in the yard raking more freeking leaves when former neighbours walked by with their 26 year old son. He was only 12- or younger, when he lived next door. How did he get to be 26? Here I am having an adult conversation with a kid who used to ride his bicycle up and down the sidewalk in front of my house and build forts in his backyard. How can this be happening?
It has to be a horror story. There’s no other logical explanation.
I’ll soon wake up.
Many evenings I settle down with a hot cup of tea to watch a movie. The plot is set. The story continues. An hour later I see the closing credits rolling across my television screen.
I slept through a two hour movie saga?
As fast as a snap of a finger, I had fallen asleep only to wake up an hour later.
I had to roll the movie back to watch it from the last scene I could remember watching.
Here’s a favourite one.
I go into a store with a mission.
Let’s say I need a litre of homo milk. Well, what other kind of milk would you expect me to use?
I have a list but milk is not on it.
I’ll remember to get it.
It’s milk after all.
I use it every morning in my coffee.
A half hour later I come out with list completed and more.
I drive home- yes, I remember the way, satisfied with a job well done.
Once home, I’m in the kitchen putting groceries away, when all of a sudden like a flash of summer lightning I remember- I had forgot to get the milk.
Sad, isn’t it?
I understand this is only the beginning.
I can hardly wait.