Week of June 4, 2005
Changes
I see many changes in both body and mind, and I wonder where I’m heading. The physical changes I can accept, even though I don’t like them. The body has crumpled earthward, leaving me only 4ft.10in. tall. That’s not a pretty sight, which is why I keep my terry-cloth robe close to the shower and reach for it before I have to pass the bathroom mirrors.
New wrinkles appear daily on the face that I now see in the mirror and I ask, “Who the heck are you?” Many brown spots cover my veined hands. But I’m really not depressed about these things. I just consider it the nasty part of growing old. What does concern me is how often I lose words.
I’ve always loved words and the way they are put together to create understanding and emotions and brilliant thoughts. I’ve clung to words all my life, fascinated by a sentence from the Rubaiyat or a saying from Confucius. I’ve delighted in Emerson’s poetry, the writings of Kahlil Gibran, Stevenson’s poems from my childhood and Alcott’s stories that added enchantment to my teen-age years.
Now I am loosing words. Struggling to bring them up and substituting when I’m not able to reach the right word. It’s come on rather slowly and I’ve termed it “that word thing” when I am talking to someone and I can’t respond correctly. It’s also showing up in other ways, like my use of the computer. Hesitation is frequent while I search for the right key. My thoughts are not as clear as they were.
I do have to admit that sometimes I have a sense of fear. Fearful that I will lose my ability to think and function as I always have. It is then that I must stop what I’m doing and remind myself of what l am still able to do. I bring to myself the thought that I am accomplishing more than many people my age. I remind me to be grateful for what I can do…like writing Reflections, maintaining my own life, enjoying my family and visitors when the arrive, loving and being loved, and above all knowing that I am in Gods hands. Thereby also knowing that I will be able to handle whatever He has chosen for me.
Still I wonder….and the song from “Paint your Wagon” enters my head.
New wrinkles appear daily on the face that I now see in the mirror and I ask, “Who the heck are you?” Many brown spots cover my veined hands. But I’m really not depressed about these things. I just consider it the nasty part of growing old. What does concern me is how often I lose words.
I’ve always loved words and the way they are put together to create understanding and emotions and brilliant thoughts. I’ve clung to words all my life, fascinated by a sentence from the Rubaiyat or a saying from Confucius. I’ve delighted in Emerson’s poetry, the writings of Kahlil Gibran, Stevenson’s poems from my childhood and Alcott’s stories that added enchantment to my teen-age years.
Now I am loosing words. Struggling to bring them up and substituting when I’m not able to reach the right word. It’s come on rather slowly and I’ve termed it “that word thing” when I am talking to someone and I can’t respond correctly. It’s also showing up in other ways, like my use of the computer. Hesitation is frequent while I search for the right key. My thoughts are not as clear as they were.
I do have to admit that sometimes I have a sense of fear. Fearful that I will lose my ability to think and function as I always have. It is then that I must stop what I’m doing and remind myself of what l am still able to do. I bring to myself the thought that I am accomplishing more than many people my age. I remind me to be grateful for what I can do…like writing Reflections, maintaining my own life, enjoying my family and visitors when the arrive, loving and being loved, and above all knowing that I am in Gods hands. Thereby also knowing that I will be able to handle whatever He has chosen for me.
Still I wonder….and the song from “Paint your Wagon” enters my head.
“Where am I going…I don’t know
When will I get there….I'm not certain
All that I know is I am on my way”
When will I get there….I'm not certain
All that I know is I am on my way”
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