First it was my neck, then it was my back – both victims of trying to pull up tree roots that had taken ten years to take hold. My body was no match for such stalwart and stubborn strength. A household with two bad backs falls quickly to mess and disrepair – it’s only a matter of time before we round the turn to the fast-track to ‘Grey Gardens‘. With only one month to go before I hit the age of 49, I’m feeling all the years.
After visiting with friends I’ve had since childhood, I had a Big Chill moment, thinking back on where we are now compared with where we were then. Comparison is still the thief of joy but I couldn’t stop myself. And it didn’t steal all the joy, just a bit of it, because the passing of time does take things, no matter how careful we try to be. It also reveals what didn’t come to pass, turning our dreams against us, or endlessly and elusively taunting us with their ongoing existence.
The back cries out, the neck stiffens, and the walk becomes stilted.
Time, you win. Time, you always win. Time, go easy on us…
Slipping into the pool for some relief (gravity does bad things to backs when they’re at their worst) I let the spine elongate and relax, decompressing those discs or whatever might be going on to cause the pain. The relief is cruelly temporary. Outside in the air, in a strange breeze of early evening, the chill caused my back to hunch up again. The spell has dissipated. The dull ache returns. Middle age haunts us in different ways. I’m trying to make that ghost into a friend.
