Are we there yet?
Those aren’t my beloved’s exact
words, but they might as well be. After today, he has 307 days to go until he is
retired. They’re still finishing up repairs and yard clean-up at the quarry
where he works. It’s all part of getting ready for when the bulk of the crew
returns and they can fire up the rock crushers for a new season of turning large
limestone slabs into various sizes of gravel. When that happens, David will be
back in his truck full time, driving from point A where his giant vehicle gets
filled with the crushed stone, to point B where the product is stored in a pile
on the floor of the quarry.
Until that time, he is doing
whatever needs done—and it’s a more physical process than he’s used to. Many
nights he comes home so spent he goes straight to bed for an hour before supper,
just to recharge his batteries.
I feel for him. I’m not as
young as I used to be, either. Each day I learn this anew as I set an aggressive
agenda for myself—and then realize my to-do list was a bit too optimistic.
Friends, getting older is not for wussies.
I tried to encourage him, when
he took over driving the big truck, making his job more sedentary for him, to
exercise and keep his stamina where it had been when he first climbed into that
truck. After all, we don’t truly understand the meaning of the phrase “use it or
lose it” until we’re over fifty. I’d like to tell you he heeded my words of
wisdom—but I can’t. No, he gave in to the joy of not having to bust his butt,
and simply reveled in the inactivity. The result of this, of course, is that
when he has no choice but to be more active, it takes a lot more out of him than
it should. Certainly, it takes more than it would have if he’d kept
moving.
The other result of his lack of
physical activity is that he’s gained a fair bit of weight over the last few
years. That doesn’t bother me, image wise. I don’t tend to look at a person
based on their physical appearance. But the added pounds are not good for a man
whose body had always supported a very modest weight, a man who also suffers
from COPD. I haven’t criticized, and was very happy when he announced over the
Christmas holidays that he really wanted to lose weight and would, come the new
year.
I’m doing my part to see that
his goal is achieved. He needs to do his part by resisting the urge of the extra
snacks. He knows this, of course. It really is all in his hands.
I take after my parents who
were both overweight. I’ve been heavy all my life. Losing weight for me isn’t an
easy process anymore and really never was. I have my own health issues,
including hypothyroidism, diabetes and heart disease. I also have severe
arthritis, in my ankles, knees, hips, and lower back. I had resumed going to the
pool, determined to get back to where I had been before my gallbladder rebelled
and interfered with my ability to go swimming.
Unfortunately, my reward for
several months of increased activity was such a bad flare up of my arthritis
that I could barely walk and really couldn’t even climb stairs without the aid
of my hands—on the steps above me. The flare up and acute pain have eased off,
but my new normal is a lot less active and a lot more painful than it had been.
All I can do now is keep moving. I still wear my step counter, and I refuse to
just sit still when it hurts like hell to move. I understand that to stay
sitting on bad days will limit my abilities even more. As I’ve already said,
getting older is not for wussies.
My beloved was thrilled when,
just before Christmas, he got a letter from the government about his OAS – Old
Age Security. It’s a stipend outside of the Canada Pension Plan that we receive
up here, once we’ve turned 65. The letter confirmed his first check will arrived
the month after he achieves that landmark birthday.
As for the rest of his future
retirement income – his CPP and his company pension - he’ll have to make
arrangements for those. He will, from time to time, mention this thing we have
to do, or that thing, to prepare for his happy event of retirement. My only
input here is that I’ve told him he needs to make a list of what has to happen,
and any questions he has.
I don’t believe I’m being
anything but fair when I tell him, like his eating habits, that’s in his hands,
too.
If you’d like to see a picture
of my beloved and his beloved truck, you can see it at my WW blog: http://wednesdayswordsbymorgan.blogspot.ca/2017/01/january-18-2017-are-we-there-yet-those.html or
you can go to my website and view my “journal”.
Love,
Morgan
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