Caving In

I'm caving in on myself. I know that sounds weird and it is weird but it's true. This is a physical piece of enlightenment that I've had to accept over this last year. I know I've written about this in the past regarding my dear friend Barbara Toomer, now deceased, as she got older and older. I couldn't figure out why this was happening to her or what was happening to her and now I wish had been more thoughtful and supportive. It is not like I was not supported by always tried to encourage Barbara in her endeavors to save the world especially the disability world. But, I did notice this physical phenomenon. I saw this with my friend Greg Naccarato as well as Deborah Mair my former boss. Now I'm seen it within me. I am literally caving in on myself. Perhaps worse is how old this makes me look.

I have to admit my level of vanity is much more intense than I ever thought. I want to look good just for the mere fact of looking good. I looked in the mirror I don't recognize that person or body. My second wife took great satisfaction in saying that I looked good or that I was in that category of people who think they look good no matter what they really might look like. I did not believe her then and only recently have come around to that line of thinking. I do like the way I look even now in this advancing form of physical senility (that even inaccurate not real statement or category or whatever?). I'm continually working out, every day on my bike, pushing my rickshaw and even now I'm beginning to play around lifting dumbbells that I have in my room. I know this is not going to build body mass backup especially muscle mass by like to play with the idea that continued exercising, dieting and food management can at least slow the process to some degree. And then the back of my mind there's a little homunculus shouting “great honk you fool 70 damn years Old! What do you think? When did I get old? I can't believe I'm this much of a cliché but I am and if it weren't so classically comic I think I would be devastated beyond repair.

But every day, little bit by little bit, I sneak in front of my full-length mirror and gaze at my body and except what I can and try to forget that which I cannot. My skin is now sagging and it's got that weird texture of a cross between reptilian old and foam rubber. I'm thankful for any hint of my body remembering phrases of poetry from my youth and generically trying to re-create. This is truly appreciated. This morning I broken a new home healthcare person. She is delightful and I think I will enjoy working with her for however long. Interesting however she is definitely a one hour person whereas last couple of care people to let me fudge a little bit of the timeline. That's okay. She was amazed and impressed that I actually get myself up in the mornings into my chair before she gets her. I'm impressed that I do that and I'm totally thankful that I am able to do so. Every day I murmur a small prayer of thanks that I've gotten through another night independently And I have not totally caved in on myself…