During my walk this morning I observed two things. The first were two siblings. One was helping the other slowly down the steps of their home and into a waiting car. Both are much older than I and had I been closer I’d have leant a helping hand. But between the two of them they managed. The second was a friend hustling toward her house bound parents’ home to unlock the door so the mobile meals deliverer could drop off the daily meal. Both situations made me realize that when I am older and in need of these types of assists that I won’t have them. There is no spouse or child on whom I will be able to depend. It’s a sad reality that I will have to prepare for one day.
No, it’s not the name of a car. It’s the exasperated cry of finding a gray hair higher on my head than has ever been found before. (Sounds like a deleted line from the opening of Star Trek. “Where no gray hair has gone before”.)
Most of the gray hairs have been hovering around the ears. That’s annoying enough, especially since they’ve been increasing in number. Now they’ve sent out this scout to seek a new locale. But this scout, that has planted its flag on the top of my head, is too much. It sticks there, taunting me. “Yes,” it says. “You are getting older.”
No! How can this be? I’m the baby of the family. We don’t get older! No! No! No! **stomps foot and glares**
*sigh* Okay, we age, we just don’t grow up. (Peter Pan take me to Neverland.)
Have I mentioned the bifocals?