Sitting in the waiting room at my doctor’s office yesterday, I was undoubtedly the youngest of the group of very old men seeing the urologist that day. When the patients were called to the window or back to a treatment room, each of those men struggled mightily to rise to standing. I had the urge to help one guy stand but thought that pride might be at issue, so I didn’t.
No matter how strong, vital or kick-ass we think we are, time will ultimately erase our physical strength -- and at sixty, I’m not far away from this.
There are days when I remember sitting on the bench seat of dad’s car, just like it was yesterday but that is simply my mind playing tricks on me and everything changes.