|Posted by ruthsmithmeyer-com on January 17, 2017 at 2:20 PM|
Ever since January when my second husband skipped off to heaven, there’s been a sneaky specter hanging about. It doesn’t actually let me have a good look at it, but it keeps gleefully whispering, “You’re getting old!”
My body gets in on the taunting disparagement. My blood sugars become unpredictable. My hip gets bursitis, making me begin to waddle like an old--no, no, it’s just my hip! It can’t be because I’m old! My doctor, as though I’m going to need it for the rest of my life, sets up an appointment with a specialist to make sure the walker that I’m using is right for me, and when asked about a dark spot that has appeared on my hand blithely tells me, “Oh you’re just getting rusty from old age!”
What? Me old?
“Yeah? You’re next!” is the murmur from that ghostly shadow. “After all, how many years can you have left?”
Then in August, my second last baby turns 50! The nerve! That’s just about five years younger than I feel on the inside, but facts are facts. I must have been older than five when she was born.
That evening is however, the impetus for some reflection during the quiet moments of night. At first I want to fight back. On further contemplation I decide to face that specter, make friends with it and walk along in companionship. Yes, I am getting older, but that doesn’t mean I have to succumb in docile or compliant surrender and sit back waiting to die! If I can’t skip along the way, I can walk briskly—give that menacing apparition a run for his/her money!
I ask the doctor for referral to a physiotherapist and begin a twice daily exercise regimen. My hip drastically improves. I renew my commitment to my quiet time that has been disrupted the changes in my life and I realize that God loves me and has plans for me right where I am in life. I begin to dream of other things to write about. I work on incorporating a regular painting day to nurture another part of my creativity. I make plans to pay regular visits to my wonderful, enlarged family who also foster my inner spirit. I even toy with the idea of using duolingo to learn a new language. I’ll first renew my acquaintance with German then try to enlarge my knowledge of French—something I always thought I’d do sometime in my life. I’ll do as my grandfather said—wear out instead of rust out—in spite of dark areas on my hands!
Eventually, when the good Lord is ready for me, I too, will sprint off to heaven, but meantime I’ll stay busy with the delights that he provides here on earth.