DEFYING GRAVITY

We were about to go to church and I was putting on a pair of dress boots and carrying a pair of trainers as well. He asked: 'Why are you carrying another pair of shoes?' So I said, 'my feet don't listen to me anymore'.

Dress boots are for Sunday service. Sketchers trainers are for anywhere else after church - in case we have a bit of walking to do. At this stage of our lives we seldom have definite plans. When the rubber hits the road, the journey begins. Depending on where the road leads us, we will then spend the day there. I may not be a scout but I like the motto 'be prepared' 

Nowadays I hardly look into a shoe shop. All the money in the world wouldn't entice me to buy anything fancy but uncomfortable. All the years of standing in heels in the lecture hall have resulted in feet that shout 'we can take no more of such abuse' 

So we try to defy gravity. Promising concoctions and peels.....and hocus pocus we have baby like skin. 

I walked into the gym and the trainer said, 'Let's warm up with jumping jacks'. Everyone was springing up and down like magnificent starfish. And there I was  making feeble attempts. I felt like a flounder, much less a starfish. I could have sworn that the gravity pull where I stood was definitely stronger. Note to self: Try another spot next time. That must be the secret.

Then I was told to go for the sled push. While others were engaging their core muscles and pushing the sled forward as fast as they could, I felt like Sisyphus, a king in Corinth who was punished for his misdeeds by eternally having to roll a heavy stone up a hill. Every time he approached the top, the stone escaped his grasp and rolled to the bottom again. 

Later that day, a good friend in her 80s visited me because she heard that my pergola had been destroyed by  Storm Kathleen and in the sworn spirit of sisterhood, we united in mutual grief. As she passed by my green house and polytunnel she commented that the greens were doing well but alas, she lamented that she couldn't do much gardening these days because it would be too arduous for her. I sensed a tinge of sadness as my gardening guru had always been an avid gardener all her life.

Laments.

We all have that bit in us.

When we realise that we can't do what we had done before because physically we are not able to. When we find that we experience senior moments: like entering a room and forgetting why we did that in the first place.

But laments can be replaced by rejoicing. 

Knowing that we have achieved much. Knowing that we have overcome many a struggle. Knowing that we don't have to worry about the many things that we had to worry about when the kids were small - fevers, colds, school grades, cocurricular activities....and the list goes on. Knowing that we have been freed from having to apply for jobs and attending interviews. Knowing that we don't have to rise up early to go to work, to set exam papers, to correct exam papers and to sit on the panel for scholarship interviews. And also knowing who our true friends are.

He said, ' There are many things you can do now, that you may not be able to do in ten or twenty years time.'

How true.

I will continue to enjoy what I can do now and love every moment of it.