Betrayed Again!

Linda Nidiffer

All writers in Op Ed are here to inform and acknowledge issues of importance to our communities, however these writings represent the views and opinions of the authors and not necessarily of The Advertiser.

A long lost cousin reached out on Facebook hoping that the “girls” could get together one more time.  Then she had the nerve to list her many ailments –what a kvetch!  I reminded her that “THEY” lied to us about this being our Golden Years.  It is not gold at all but carefully disguised rust.  I would love to see this cousin and reminisce but the problem is she grew up in Chicago and never learned to drive.  Can you imagine?  This means that we would have to meet in murder central.  The oldest of us is well into her 80’s and the baby is pushing 60.  Do you suppose Mayor Lightfoot will guarantee our safety? Or should I take my Ninja Warrior Knitting Needles?  I will put my $$ on the needles and see if I can stop in Indiana and pick up a 38.

Our reunion will have to wait a bit because my body betrayed me again—damn it!  You need the embarrassing background notes to get the full flavor of my predicament.  For the last 4 or 5 months I have been getting the best sleep of my life.  I have not been sleeping in my fancy bed with the heated foot section.  I have not been sleeping in my recliner on a regular basis.  I have been “glamping” on my screened in back porch!  How tacky is that?  Warm weather was just returning and I became intoxicated with the spring smells.  I threw my grandson’s futon on the porch floor.  The cats looked at me as though I was crazy (ok, they had a point) and I turned on my little electric blanket and boom; out like a light.

I love the earthy smell just after a rain. It takes me right home to the little farm in Indiana.  The birds singing are much more pleasant than the rooster who never shut up! I have never had to hurry up to catch a school bus. Or take a shower in the outbuilding provided by a campground.  Glamping is the way to go.

I am fully luxuriating on my hand me down (or is it hand me up since my grandson gave it up to me and not me to him—what irony) futon and think that a good long cat-like stretch would do me good.  Let me say now that making healthy life style choices will harm you and can potentially kill you. Live recklessly.  I stretch my arms and pretend they are four feet long.  Feeling  good.  I pretend that my legs are six feet long and that I am really tall and thin.  I can feel my blood start to really flow and by brain releases its sleep mode.  My torso serpentines left then right. I am doing great.  Then I hear the famous cereal noise of Snap, Crackle, and Pop!  I see pretty lights.  Oh, man, not again.  The good news is to get out of bed is just a six inch drop.  To stand up from a prone position on the floor is going to take an act of God and a crane.  My back has betrayed me again.  Let’s hear it for our Golden Years!

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