Coming to Terms with My Aging Body
April Six-Word Photo Story Challenge: “Reflect”
Time Out to Get a Grip
Yesterday, I had a bad fall. Like all accidents, it happened in a split second.
My foot slipped out of my new-to-me clogs, and I tripped on it. I knew I was going down, and I started yelling and screaming at once. [1]
As I hit the wood floor hard, I continued yelling at the top of my voice. I hoped my husband was still in the garage and could hear me.
Paul came quickly and helped me up. I didn’t think I’d broken any bones, but I had badly bruised kneecaps and ribs, and my right arm was sprained at the wrist, elbow, and shoulder.
Worse, my ego was severely hurting.
It was Sunday morning, and I felt the best I had felt since coming down with Covid-19 nearly three weeks earlier. I was eager to get my life back, and now this humiliating setback.
Paul suggested we go for a drive to distract me from my wounds.
I knew that was a good idea, so off we went for a Sunday drive in the country. The hills were beautiful greens, and the blue sky was filled with puffy white clouds.
It was a good time out.
It was a time to reflect that coming to terms with my aging body is an ongoing process, and I must work on my balance.
And those handsome clogs are going to the thrift store.
[1] Somewhere along life’s way, I learned that, for me, yelling and screaming when I’m hurting takes away the pain. Normally, my personality is wallflower quiet.
