I have a
friend (even though she’s only on Facebook these days)
Who last
week was alarmed when she came to the realization that
Friday was
indeed only Thursday, or was it the other way around?
Old age, some
of us have discovered, has a way of playing tricks
on the mind.
And one of those moments struck me hard this mor-
ning as I
looked into the bathroom mirror.
When you are
young, the aging process is a subtle, barely neg-
ligible
process which most days is not even perceptible to the
youthful
human eye of denial.
Oh, a stray
and errant gray hair here and there can be success-
fully eliminated
with a swift and decisive plucking tweezer ma-
neuver.
But when you
have exceeded the age limit of sixty-years, pro-
found changes
in physical appearance are to be expected as
part and
parcel of one’s daily routine.
Anyway,
today I chanced looking into the bathroom mirror while
washing my
hands. My days are numbered, I surmised, and I am
chilled. Oh,
the darkness is calling. I feel it in my weary bones.
Time, oh
time, you cruel and indiscriminant executioner; the
world is
growing dimmer. And in a moment’s desperation I
looked up toward
the heavens in prayer.
It was then
I realized that I was not fading as fast as the vivid
imagination plaguing
my head; the dimming of light was in fact
a matter of
a burned-out light bulb instead.
Chris
Hanch 8-18-15
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