I AM FIRING MY BODY

  Several days back, my dear husband announced, "If my body were an employee, I'd fire him!" I love this. It is humorous, takes us into the journey so many of us older folks are on, and condenses it into one sentence. The trials of growing older in bouillon form!

 

 I am not sure how you folks are doing out there with the ageing journey? Slow? Too fast? Horrors when you pull on a sock and your back goes out? You tell me. My ageing journey involves several things, which may or may not speak to you:

1/ I order things from Amazon that I had no intention of ordering. Either they were WAY too big, are an item I clicked on by mistake, or something like that. Then the damn thing arrives, and I have to return it. 

You know Jeff made it way more difficult to return items 2 years back. As a cancer survivor and a careful broad, I do not want to drive into Northampton and go to the FedEx store to return something. Sometimes I have the truck come and get the item, if it is pricey, and sometimes I chuck it into the closet along with all the other things I do not know what to do with. (A sewing machine bought from Caldor's years back that I have never figured out how to thread: an old tempurpedic pillow that I can't bear to throw away--it cost $125.00!; a knitting project half-finished that I think I may take up someday and finish. Dream on, Annie!)

2/ When the barometric pressure is low, I go low too. This is because of my Dysautonomia from chemo, but I still try to butch up by taking my cane and walking around the nice flat deck with no stones to send me sprawling.

 I look at the colors on the hills, now past the peak; watch the birds scurrying across the deck and picking up seeds; and see the bright red leaves falling from Bob the maple. All of this sustains, cheers, and makes me think I can just keep on going a bit longer.

 

3/ I find posts on FB that speak to ageing, often in the OldTimers site where we see our playlists were #45 records stacked on a spindle of a record player; where we see kids flying down a hill on their bikes with no helmets; where we remember what it was like to go barefoot in the mud and get phenomenally dirty. 

Remembering is such a vital part of this journey. I now know that scenes from my past are often much clearer and more vivid than my present. I just let it go, know it is part of the end of my life, and I treasure these scenes from my lucky, happy childhood.

4/ I still want to look good, even at almost 77. I go on the FODMAP diet to see if it will help bloating in the tummy area.

 It may, all the data is not in yet. I order skinny white jeans from StitchFix because--why not? I can still wear them, and they make me feel joyful. I know, I know; I should be doing St. Ignatius's Exercises instead, volunteering at the Food Pantry, and more. But seriously, with this somewhat damaged body of mine, I have to be careful about how I allot my energy (my Spoons for the day).

5/ I choose the things that still give me joy, even as I number my years on one hand, two if I am lucky: cooking, of course; being with my sweetheart whom I first dated 50 years ago; watching birds; walking in nature; cuddling with my new, wonderful doggy; reading cozy Miss Read books on my Kindle; talking to friends on the phone or emailing them; texting my "kids"; praying and knowing that no matter what the future holds, whether I decline in a terrible manner or more, God has got it. God is holding me in her hands, and man, I put my faith in that and in her.