I hurt my knees -- the right one playing baseball and the left one playing football -- before I was in my teens. My Grandma Knez had arthritis in her knees, and there is a picture burned on my brain of her sitting in a chair rubbing her knees because they hurt her so bad. Whenever I saw her doing that, I would think, "That's going to be me some day." I'm happy to report that, despite further injuries over the last 55 years or so, my knees are still serviceable, probably more than I might expect considering how many extra pounds they have had to carry around. The same can be said for my hips (knock wood). The shoulders are another matter.
And I just spent more than two hours folding paper (origami tchotchkes for my friends), and it occurred to me how lucky I am to be this old and have complete and pain-free use of my hands and fingers.
A while back I was catching up with somebody I went to high school with and hadn't seen since. When I mentioned that in addition to back surgeries and broken bones, I've survived breast cancer and a heart attack, she responded, "Wow, you're a tough old broad, aren't you?"
Yes, I am.
My recently retired partner, who is today an official 65-year-old senior citizen on social security, has been through a bunch of ringers herself but is in pretty good shape for the shape she's in, and I can guarantee her that never having to go to work ever again has a way of making little aches and pains quite inconsequential.
I think we're both lucky just to have these golden retirement years; spending them together is a bonus.
Happy birthday, JB, from one tough old broad to another.
No comments:
Post a Comment