Body Parts Warrantee.
- Gravity. Maybe Seniors on planets with less gravity than our Earth look better than we do? From my jowls to my bosom to my butt, everything moves south like Minnesota Snowbirds. Most of it also gravitated around to my abdomen. Handy place to find food I've dropped, though. Helps avoid having to pick it up off the floor, which hurts my knees, which is why those reacher/grabber tools are SO nice.
- Knees. Now THOSE are replaceable, I know, but still...First thing out of bed in the morning, having to check the daily knee status to see how your day is going to go, decide to medicate or not, can pretty shoes be worn, or will it have to be something sturdy and sensible?
- Vision. Nearsighted at birth, I had glasses at age 4. Contacts at 14. Back to glasses with bifocals late 20s when the bifocal contacts proved painful. Then a series of stronger and stronger myopia/bifocal prescriptions. Now the bifocal part of my glasses is only effective for that distance between my face and the speedometer in the truck. Anything closer requires taking them off. Reading, computer, crocheting, everything. I can't light my cigarette without taking off my glasses. And how the hell does one find one's glasses in the morning without one's glasses?
- Pigmentation. Where does it go? (Yes, I know, age spots) I was born with blond hair on my head, but dark brows, lashes, and everywhere else (if you get my drift). The hair on my head started turning white early on, but it looked sort of salon-frosted, so I didn't mind. But the white hair "everywhere else" is a shock to see every day.
- Speaking of shocks. It seems that crushing chest pain episode I had recently was a mild heart attack. All these years of abusing my body by what I put into it and not exercising lead to only one thing: lots of medical tests. I almost need a secretary to manage my doctor appointments schedule. But they do give me something to do, somewhere to go. Apparently that's how seniors are meant to fill those empty hours of retirement. I'm thankful to realize this, was a little worried.
Financial Security
This might be laughable, but a fixed income is no laughing matter. What do you mean I can't buy what I want whenever I want it? Should have saved more. What a concept! A registered nurse for 35 years, I miss my salary more than anything else, except maybe my dignity.
Dignity
Loss of. I remember being SO embarrassed of my mother when I was 13. She could be relied upon to chauffeur me to events with her hair in rollers and a gaudy headscarf tied over it. But I'm learning to accept my own loss of dignity. Took the cat out for a walk today wearing my flannel Lucy Ricardo pajama pants, Crocs, and a stained T-shirt without a bra. But I'm almost positive nobody saw me.
Reverence
Nobody reveres me like I always revered seniors. The kids don't even call. I suppose we reap what we sow, but you'd THINK my valuable advice, opinions, and experiences would be sought more often. Or occasionally. Or even annually. Ingrates! Hence this blog...
And then you die.
It's so hard when you lose your grandparents, then your parents, but when your peers start dropping off, it's a real eye-opener. One major force in my botched child-rearing is the compelling urge to spare my children from pain and heartache. I find myself slowly withdrawing from their lives, possibly hoping that my eventual death will not be the gut-wrenching, OMG-this-is-too-painful-to-bear experience I went through in losing my dad. (No, I'm not a saint like my dad was, so it's probably overkill to worry. But still...) Sure, I want them to miss me, remember me sometimes, but sweet, funny little memories rather than an aching sense of loss. To spare them that pain would mean the world to me.
