I’m not considerate of the fact that I’m now 61. It’s just that it keeps incessantly tapping me on the shoulder. I hate it when it’s impoliteness goes to beyond rude. I’m left almost daily with being tired way before the limit I’m used to experiencing.
No more than three years ago I dropped my car off at a shop three miles from home and walked back home, trimmed and mowed two acres of yard and walked the three miles back to pick up my car when it was done. I was pooped, to be sure, but not beyond being able to recoup within the same day.
Now, I mow the lawn one day, trim another, then I will walk two miles on yet another day, but not all in one day. I can’t do it. To ready my newer Corvette for a show I spent one Saturday removing the wheels and thoroughly cleaning them and painting the rotors while setting up and spraying weeds in between the drying times for the paint so I could add another coat. I was so given out when I got done I didn’t know if I would live the remainder of the day. Still the next day I was right back outside mowing the middle section of my lawn and was once more tired beyond belief.
The next weekend Libby and I rode the car to the show and being entered in the show I had to tidy it up once we were placed on the lot and later I helped tally and arrange the scoring of some 50 of the 90 cars in the show. Again, I came home pooped.
Old age just won’t leave me alone. Not for a minute. Some days, like today, I just want to cry for the abilities I used to exhibit to myself and others. It makes me feel useless and left with the feeling of my mortality.
Libby is very supportive and loves me very much and I feel at least as much for her if not more. I never want to be a burden to her in any way. I’m supposed to be the person she always looked and prayed for, yet for how long? I wish it to be many years.