Put the cane down. That isn’t a metaphor. I just put it down.
Thought experiment…what if this really is the new normal? This constant low grade pain with occasional flares of what-the-fuck? Add this to the year of lessons in mortality. Little deaths. My body is not what it was. It’s degrading. And that’s what happens with age. Old isn’t bad. Yeah. I’m fifty and that is a number and big whoop. No. It’s this
I am broken
I am breaking
Maybe I am accepting. It’s time for that stage of grieving. It’s about time.