You can't bend.You can't push.You can't work the way you used to.
This is not the way this place should look, with weeds and brambles taking over the docks. We try, Hubby and I. We go out and pull weeds, cut vegetation, trim the rambling vines.
We work an hour or so, with hoe, pruners, weed-wacking machine, hands and shoulders, legs and hips.
Soon, everything aches.
Not enough to make us cry; but enough to stop us in our pursuits. Sorry, we say to ourselves. Sorry, we say to each other. We have abused our muscles and joints enough for one day.
The rest of the day is shot too. The tiredness pins us down for a few hours, through a meal and a nap. And it still lingers in our bodies through the night. The only thing that helps is a hot bath or a massage. The bath is not so easy to get in and out; and the massage requires fingers and muscles from someone else who is strong and invincible.
Do we age faster after a certain age?
Or, have we neglected our bodies to the point where this decline is inevitable?
I used to....
I wish I could still...
The irony is blatant: Now that we have time, we lack energy and stamina.
And tomorrow does not look any brighter.
