As the months and years fly by, the reality of aging has suddenly hit me like a cold north wind. So I button up my jacket and hope the jacket I’m wearing is my own.
The only consolation is that my friends are riding in the same sinking boat. But if we’re creative, we can salvage what’s left and make these our best years. Hope still floats in my world.
If you’re not sure you’re there yet, consider the following – these are what first clued me in that the clock is stealing my time:
*Reading the obituaries has taken the place of romance novels and blockbuster movies.
*While driving in the car, you cut down the radio so see where you are going, and you put on your reading glasses to taste the spaghetti sauce;
*You can only get into one half of your two-piece bathing suit;
*All your birthday party invitations carry the words “No Gifts Please.” Now I know why. In a lifetime of collecting stuff, we’ve finally run out of room for any more stuff;
*Men with “comb-overs” are beginning to look very attractive. I’ve got the beginnings of a little “comb-over” myself;
*You call an eight year-old when you’re having trouble with your computer;
*You call a six year old when you need help to program your new cell phone;
*Your doctor has pimples and your dentist is still wearing braces;
*You are finally the perfect weight – for a seven foot woman or a ten-foot man;
*You no longer lose your car keys, you lose the whole car. I read the other day that you can slap a plunger on the hood of your car tied with a hot pink scarf. You’ll never lose the car again;
*You look in the mirror and say “I’m either 55 and look fantastic or I’m 25 and look just awful.
Me? I just don’t want to look my age, what ever it is.