Maybe my blog should be called 'Elder' or 'Senior'—those are the politically correct terms. But 'elderly' has such a cozy ring to it. I truly love spending time with older folks.
On friends' birthdays, I adore chatting and cuddling with their elderly parents, soaking in their beautiful stories and serene presence. They often share profound life wisdom and a tranquility that's deeply inspiring. Take my uncle Jan, who's nearly 87: he attends Zumba classes, recently completed a magic course, and volunteers teaching Dutch to asylum seekers. No exaggeration—he's hardly ever home. I have nothing but respect and admiration for this remarkable man.
Dancing Blues
This week, at 49, I've been feeling my age. At a lively party, after a few drinks, I hit the dance floor. With a glass of wine and painkiller in hand, the discomfort faded—pure bliss! They can't take those moments away from me. But days later, I'm paying the price: my knee's acting up badly, I can barely walk, and my shoulder's throbbing with what feels like tendonitis. Ouch—I feel every bit of 'old' right now.
Grandkids? Not Yet!
Monday night, I attended the info session at the clinic for my upcoming total knee replacement next week—complete with a shiny new kneecap. It was informative, a bit scary, but also amusing. The surgeon quipped, 'Remember, you won't be chasing grandchildren for the first few months.' Hilarious—my youngest is just 7! Still, the average patient age is 72, which matched the room perfectly. Pre-op rules like washing with Dettol for three days (hair too on the last), nasal antibacterial ointment, and no leg shaving for a week aren't doing wonders for my self-image. But who cares? I'm biting the sour apple, enduring rehab, and crossing fingers for no complications. If all goes well, I'll be chasing those future grandkids in no time!
To be continued...
