Friday, November 20, 2009

Slow Moves

I walk with a limp now, take stairs one at a time sideways
feel the earth move if I don’t look out of the right trifocal
listen deliberately and think over my replies so I don’t do
harm. I get in the car and sit until I feel it’s alright to go.
I have a check list I go through before I start the engine
before I drive away. I take a mental list in a restaurant
with me to be sure I come out with the same objects. I stop
before I enter a store, note where my car is parked again
before walking in and memorize the items around
the entry door so I can remember it when it’s time to exit.

Life in my 60’s finds me more deliberate by necessity.
I change what I can and adjust to what I can’t. I
prepare for old age slowly.

Judy Roney
Nov 17, 2009

4 comments:

Glenda Council Beall said...

Judy, I relate to this poem very well, but it was not until my husband's passing that these things began happening to me. I think much of this is from grief and not just age.

Judy Roney said...

Glenda. I know the one thing that lasted for so long when my son died was the inability to concentrate. I agree that those things I mention can definitely be from grief. Hugs to you.

Mary said...

I'm fine if I am in familiar areas, but get me in a strange shopping center in an unfamiliar city......I have to take note of EVERYTHING. I am pretty
'hopeless' with directions anyway, but then I always was... and undoubtedly it will get WORSE. Sigh.

Diane T said...

Oh boy. Does this ever sound familiar, especially the steps one foot at a time. Many hugs to you, Judy.