Aging

I awake, listing all the possible times of night [or early morning] it could be. I get up, walking with that strange rolling gate that age has gifted me.

I have become an old woman in the years that Burt suffered his dementia. I stayed perky-ish while he needed me but since he left, I feel my years more deeply.

Some of my newly prominent issues can be mitigated. I expect that a set of hearing aids and cataract surgery will help. Some exercises to address pain and stiffness in my knees can’t hurt either. A long overdue attempt at weight reduction might smooth some of the lugubrious slog of my movements as well.

At least that’s the plan, darling, I tell him and now you [dear reader] as well.