Over the last few months, I have found my life becoming unglued. I’ve reached a tipping point and worried about dropping over the edge. Although buckling but not broken, I’m still pushing back as best I can.
The latest setback was yesterday. Upon reaching in the cupboard for a cereal bowl I dropped two of them onto the floor, smashing them into smithereens. This was not the first time I had broken dinnerware. Now my partner is threatening to buy me a wooden set of dishes just for myself to prolong buying a complete new set. There are other problems as well; my memory is declining and my hands don’t have the same strength or grip. I needed water softener salt the other day and while struggling to grasp one a young employee came over and said, “Can I help you with that, sir?” As she hefted the heavy bag into my shopping cart I said, “Please, can you make it two.” Opportunities like that are few and far between. I was tempted to say; “My car is parked just outside!” That darn Honda snow blower is also a pain with all its levers. Having to maneuver it around so many times this winter has resulted in complete soreness in my left thumb.
When it comes to my energy level, it isn’t. My partner says I wasn’t too helpful around the house to begin with but now I’m next to impossible. Her expectations of me helping maintain the house are a little lofty, I think. I even take monthly B12 shots to cope better with all the things needed to be done — should I attempt to do less or more! I read where a man who competed in nearly 400 marathons died at the age of 96. Maybe, if he had showed moderation in the number of races entered he might have eventually received a personal letter from PM Trudeau when he reached 100. Some of my energy is used up to compensate for a Whitewater snowplow driver who always leaves a load of heavy snow right in my walkway as he makes his turn. I have tried to catch him to explain my distress but either he is too fast or I am too slow.
To get a better picture of my predicament, I double-downed on past experiences seeking a clue. I know I’m not nearly as involved as some of my friends who always have projects on the go, hunt, fish, enjoy the outdoors to the extreme and many of them going to Florida or Portugal during the cold months. I did the Island vacation thing for five years when much younger but should have cut it at three times – too repetitive – an island is an island. Their hectic lifestyle was not for me. In 1999, after relocation to Wasaga Beach there was plenty of involvement in addition to my job. Too much perhaps as on one particular evening I had three meetings to attend with three separate clubs, more than a catch-22. After Wasaga Beach, I retired to my hometown to share household responsibilities with my aging father. After being here a couple of years, I got involved with the 2006 WPS reunion. I composed profiles of 200 former students for publication. I figure I spent 35 hours a week for five months on the project and never once did fishing or camping cross my mind. I guess I was an inside person! Everything was falling into place; a long-term member of the WDRA, a few years with the Whitewater Historical Society, part-time reporter with the Cobden Sun for four years, two years as Secretary with the RVSSC and now a columnist with whitewaternews.ca. I did keep fairly busty all those years. Running out of steam is unfortunately affecting my optimism for the future. Even a Netflix program that was filmed in an old folk’s home made me imagine I was one of those residents. It was so depressing I switched it off.
Contemplating my situation at a deeper level, I recalled that Aristotle once said, “The energy of the mind is the essence of life.” By detaching my physical problems from my mind, then my energy level wouldn’t be compromised! Why didn’t I think of that sooner?
