Aging is One Thing
Doing it gracefully is another.
How did I get so damn old? I was in my thirties — it seems just the other day — and I could do anything! I mean anything. I was a 5'3" police officer. I could leap tall buildings…well, maybe not. But I felt like I could. I could damn sure arrest people a foot taller and 100 pounds heavier. I meant to be a strong chick like that forever.
Then I was in my forties and even my fifties.
I felt great. And you know, I’m going to go ahead and say it, I looked great, too. Although, I didn’t know it back then. I settled a lot because I was very critical of myself, and especially of my looks. I only found out later — the truth was that I was good-looking. Especially compared to the crone I am now. We’ll talk about her later.
I was just going along. My hubs and I were active in our forties and fifties and into our sixties. We walked on the beach, we loved going camping — if you could call it that — in our Airstream trailer and we spent two months on the road out west. My husband had motorcycles. I could run.
And then, one winter a year or two ago, it became harder to do the things I had always done. When spring came, it was apparent I had lost ground over the long, lazy winter curled up on the sofa reading. It was hard to get my mojo going once the days became gently…
