Published: June 23, 2008 05:42 pm            

WHITE-WALKER: Old father time is ticking louder

Stosh, will you forgive me? 50 years we’ve known each other, ever since our glorious DeSales days, and what did I call you when we met unexpectedly in the supermarket, seafood section, I called you Josh. I never even went to school with anybody by that name.

“’You’re just having one of those ‘senior moments,’ you joked. “It’s our ages and it happens to me all the time.’”

It might happen to him all the time, but I’m determined to not have it happen to me again. But what can I do to ward off dead brain cells?

“Stay active and keep your mind alert,” advised my 96-year-old friend.

I’m not buying it. I’m reading and writing my life away, walking 2.6 miles everyday and poppin’ vitamin pills like they’re popcorn, and where does it get me? “Hello, Josh,” instead of “hello, Stosh.” I don’t even personally know anybody by that name. Thank God I didn’t have to come up with Josh’s, I mean, Stosh’s last name or we’d still be standing there, in the supermarket, seafood section. Actually my dear school chum was in a wheelchair due to health problems. His hair was all white and he didn’t look at all like the agile skinny kid I went to school with. Of course I looked exactly the same as I did half a century ago, no wonder it was so easy for him to recognize me. Isn’t it absolutely amazing how all our school friends are looking so much older while we’re looking like we’re drinking from the fountain of youth?

“You’re drinking all right, the 90 proof stuff, if you think you’re not aging right along with them,” spoke up my husband.

“But the mirror doesn’t lie,” I flippantly replied.

“Put on your damn glasses, will ya?”

“But I hear all the glowing compliments coming my way. Surely all those people can’t be lying?”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” he sternly commented. “When I’m out on the riding lawn mower, a good 265 yards from the house, I can hear the radio blaring from within the room you’re in. What does that tell you?”

“It tells me that even though you can’t see me, you’re listening to everything I’m doing.”

“It tells me you’re going deaf!”

“But what about when we’re out shopping and we bump into my former classmates? They all say, “’Golly, gee, Karen, you haven’t aged a day.’ And I just might be close enough to read their lips,” I sarcastically comment.

“They’re right,” he agreed. “You haven’t aged a day, you’ve aged 50 years!”

I’m not buying it, because inside I still feel kinda young. If I’m not convinced I’m getting old, the world is constantly reminding me. I wish they’d quit sending me those darn brochures depicting walkers, wheelchairs and porta- potties. And why does the librarian direct me immediately to the large print books and the softest chair in the place? And when I stop at some cheap joint for a cup of coffee, the waitress automatically gives me the senior citizen discount — without my even asking. You’d have to be blind, deaf and dumb (I know what you’re thinking) not to notice how the world has drastically changed, and obviously 20/20 vision just isn’t what it used to be — poor waitress.

Karen White-Walker is a Wilson resident.

        

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