I didn’t even realize I was on the downside of the hill of life until I was partway down, and now I can’t climb back up. It’s like a giant greased slope, sending me downward ever faster, gaining momentum. My thumbs are creaky, I need less food than I used to before I start to “store” it, my memory is starting to cause single words to just disappear from my brain for a little while, and it’s not quite as easy to bounce up from sitting on the floor as it used to be. Not only all that, but my contemporaries seem to be losing family members and friends at a faster rate.
So far, my eyes are my biggest complaint with the aging process, so perhaps I am one of the lucky ones. A few years ago, I started having trouble seeing things close to me – teensy, tiny numbers and letters began to appear everywhere. I would move the object of my attention a bit further away each time, finally having to combine squinting and raising my eyebrows to make out what it said. When I started having to pass things to my daughters to read for me, I knew I was going to have to take the plunge into the dreaded realm of reading glasses. How uncool is that? After going most of my life with pretty sharp eyesight, I was stuck trying to figure out how to possibly not look like a grandma with any style I might pick. There are people who look chic and well put together in glasses. Some make you look smarter, some sexier, some more fashionable. All of the frames I tried on, however, just made me look old. I finally ended up with some that my eldest daughter said made me look like Meryl Streep. I was flattered until I realized that Miss Meryl is more than a decade older than me.
I really, really, really don’t like the effects of getting older. I do prefer it to the alternative, however.