On Aging Gracefully

On Aging Gracefully It seems that while we’re here on earth we spend our time ‘tween death and birth in growing older and it shows how fast my body ebbs and flows. Allowing time to contemplate and reminisce before too late how far I’ve come to this fair place; they say I must age sweetly and with grace. I know my body’s not the same as when I started in this game. It’s not the same; I know it well at least as far as I can tell. I take my glasses off my head and place them near me by my bed. But can I see? Oh, not a bit, my eyes are bad, I must admit. My ears have aids which compensate my lack of hearing to this date. It stimulates some thoughtful chat though misheard words account for that! And then my teeth, I have to tell, are soaking in a glass as well. They smile at me with toothy grin until I put them in again. My chest has fallen to the ground; the hair I have is grey, not brown. My chin has twins, nephews and nieces; my face has lines and lots of creases! I have no special muscle tone; I am no longer “in the zone”! I see a mirror and I scare; don’t know the guy who’s standing there. At five o’clock it’s time to eat, sit by the table; off my feet, but let not much pass by my lips or it is forever on my hips. My body’s cursed with indigestion; my singing often comes in question; my breathing breathes out gasps and wheezes; each morning starts with several sneezes. I yawn with nothing to yawn about; I yawn inside; I yawn out! And napping’s not a dirty word; refusing naps would be absurd! My body aches, I feel each pain and ask when I’ll feel good again. What happened since that time long passed when I thought wrong my youth would last? There is much more that I can mention of doctors trips and drawing pension. But here’s the truth I have to face: they say I must approach this age with grace. But will I take it lying down till I am six feet underground? Oh, not a bit; there’s not a chance. I’ll not give age a second glance.