Friday 17 January 2014

Not That Old

In many ways, getting older is a blessing.

Hopefully you have accumulated some wisdom, you might not use said wisdom, but you will know when you screwed things up. You will have learned your limits and know when you can fix something or when it is best to call a professional. I’ve learned this, but I still have trouble with believing that not only is a tradesman smarter than I am, but he is also better equipped to deal with assholes like myself. Life is a learning experience without grades or even pass/fail, but it is terminal.

If you are lucky, your financial worries will have dwindled or disappeared all together. If you are lucky you will have provided for your golden years. Most of us need very little, enough for a cup of coffee a couple of times a week so that we can get together with like minded old farts and solve the world’s problems in an hour. By this time in your life you are hard pressed to find something that you need which you don’t have. That also pisses off the kids when they have to buy you a present.

If you have been blessed with children, they have by this time grown into adulthood and are well into their careers. You can only hope that they are at least where you were at the same age and hopefully they have managed to surpass you in all ways. I am lucky that way. The only problem with the kids is that you don’t see them as often as you would like, which is an echo of what your parents must have felt. Life changes but remains the same.

I suppose that grandkids are for me the biggest blessing. I can see the world through new eyes and discover the wonder that has been there all along. They have yet to question your motives and whether you deserve the unconditional love they give. Watching your kid’s raise the grandkids also give you insight into what you did right raising them and what you did wrong. Thankfully, I did less wrong than right.

Tonight I went out to help push a car that had become hub deep in ice at the end of the alley. We managed to get it out with the help of a spade, an ice chipper and more than a little sweat equity. I came in the house and was pretty sure that last night’s blog was to be my last. I can’t do that shit anymore. There was a time when I could push a car out of a drift one handed with my mailbag slung over my shoulder and it wouldn’t even add any time to my day. I needed about a half hour to get more or less normal again.

I can no longer take for granted good, vibrant health without lifting a finger to get that way. I guess I need to start eating less and better, get the exercise that I don’t think I need and maybe, just maybe, the next time I should tell the young guy that I will drive and he can push.

Maybe not though…I’m really not that old.

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