When I was young and complained about some ache or pain, my mother would say, "Wait until you are MY age." I AM that age now. My eyesight stinks, my hearing is not what it once was, and I guess my memory is not the razor sharp sieve it once was. Or at least that is what my son gently tried to explain to me this morning.
He was noting some arthritic pain he experiences from being an avid guitar player, one who has had two major surgeries on his left (fretboard) wrist and elbow. My reply was to say that I now experience neuropathy and arthritis in both my hands, all the time. ("Mom, are you listening from wherever you are?")
Definitely a reminder of how much of an old fart I have become. Getting old really stinks, but it sure beats the alternative.
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