Life used to be easier when my bowl was heaping with good health and agility. Lately, I feel that some of that old vitality has left, leaving just the pits.
The hearing is not so great anymore. Just the other morning hubby came out of the kitchen and said “Do we have any more easy opening coffee?” I’m thinking he means a newly designed container. Much confusion ensues as he repeats the question several times, until finally he says one syllable at a time: ‘E-thi-o-pi-an’. We enjoyed a good laugh over a cup of the exotic coffee. By the way I wish they could design an easier opening for bags of coffee beans.
I used to eat anything–my bowl runneth over. Now much time is spent reading food labels to make sure it has enough fiber and not too much fat and sodium. Why is there so much sodium in products? and food coloring…even one brand of toothpaste (which was white) contained food coloring. I’m concerned about food coloring. Also I heard one piece of advice that says “don’t eat it, if you can’t pronounce all the ingredients. So shopping the food aisles take a lot longer than before. Fact is it’s slow because the eyes are not that good anymore.
Plus another consideration is how easy they are to open. Of course the pill bottles all have lids that won’t come off no matter how hard you try. And if you have arthritis, that pill bottle is probably the worst one. I have to take more pills than I ever thought I’d need. And also on my shelf is the dreaded container of Metamucil that has to be used frequently. Since the foods don’t contain enough fiber. I’d guess there’s more fiber in the labels themselves than some of the food they describe.
My birthday is coming up and this year is when I get my driver’s license renewed. Hubby does most of the driving with me as the navigator. Sometimes all goes well, until suddenly there is a problem remembering how east and west relate. We get lost and end up taking a lot of unplanned side trips. (See D is for Detours) Anyway I had to go stand in line at the DMV and get my photo taken again. But that’s another story.
So, OK, the memory is not so good either. I’m not alone in this. A majority of people my age worry about aging and the brain. Not that it’s any consolation to be in such a large group. Losing your keys is a very serious matter. You find them in your coat pocket after an agonizing search and try to convince yourself it won’t happen again. Murphy’s law says it will.
A friend once confessed that she took the bus home from the shopping mall. Nothing unusual about that, you think. She was embarrassed by the fact that she’d driven her husband’s car to the mall. In her defense, she always rode the bus downtown, so riding home was programmed into her head.
There is a lot of stuff programmed into my head that I wish wasn’t there. I forget a lot of important things, but the other stuff remains. Why is that? With all the forgetting, why can’t I forget about the mistake I made on a summer day when I was about 12 years old. Or the boy I insulted when I was 16. Or the time I hurt my best friends feelings. Those stories would be good to forget. But they remain—and that is good I think…to remember the healing involved and to be able to pass along that wisdom to your children and grandchildren.
Life, really, is all about the cherries. It’s getting up every day and enjoying the abundance that fills our bowl. The pits will always be a part of living, They just make the cherries seem that much sweeter.