Approaching Seventy
Approaching Seventy
Careful near the pool edge, careful down the stair.
“Hurry” is disaster’s brand new nom de guerre.
All the things that in the past you might easily dare
are potential dangers hanging in the air;
so don’t stand on a ladder, or even worse, a chair.
It’s different being single than when you were a pair,
for there is no one with you to see how you might fare.
When coming from the pool, be sure the shoes you wear
do not slip upon the tile–this is your worst nightmare.
If your feet are wet and if they’re also bare,
when you plug in your curling rod, I hope that you take care.
Although I know you’ve always been nimble as a hare,
things all change with age. I say this ’cause I care.
Bones become more breakable and muscles tend to tear,
so please take proper care, dear, in your single lair.
At seventy those second chances tend to be more rare.
(We were asked to reprint a post made on Oct. 9 of an earlier year. Mine is from 2016.)
I reIate to every warning. I use a cane when I walk outside the house. Twice I have tripped over my own cane, once falling. I cannot get up once I’m down except by climbing on anything heavy enough nearby. It is creeeepy.
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I can no longer use the location locater on my computer, so don’t know who this is, but I identify with the difficulty in getting up, once prone, unless I can step down to get up… Cannot kneel on my knees. If I can scoot over to a stairway, even two steps, it’s my only chance.
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So much truth in this poem and it gets worse as we get older 🤗
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Fortunately, we have each other to complain about it to…
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I had one of those wet-surface slips last week—my backside is still bruised and aching!
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After I had 4 bad falls in one year, I retiled my entire house with less slippery tile and got rid of all of my beautiful Oaxacan carpets… Just not worth the chance of tripping over them.
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