I dropped by my friend's house this morning with a dozen yellow roses to cheer her up. She fell on her own stairs and has two black eyes and a huge bump on her forehead. She describes herself as looking like a raccoon. We chatted for an hour and laughed a lot. She talked about getting cabin fever, and I've been feeling that way myself. I like to think I can go somewhere even if I have nowhere to go. The real elephant in the room is aging. We've both fallen, been ill and worry about shingles and other dreaded signs of old age. Luckily, we're in the same boat. We're able to speak of our fears, share information and garner support. But some days it's hard. Yellow roses help, but not enough.
I have friends further along this path than myself. I see how well they cope with disabilities, loss of spouses, the restriction of their activities. They are my guides. They remind me I am not less because I'm older, not less interesting, less valuable in their take on our lives, not less fun because we aren't hiking the mountaintops. We're adjusting. Gently, kindly and with great compassion for each other and the world.
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