Each Day is a Little More Difficult
When we were little, we were immortal. At least we were immortal in our own minds. Oh, we never thought about it, but we had no concept of an end of life. In addition, most of us had no concept of a problematic life. The thing most on our mind was going over to a friend's house and playing. Or bike riding. Or something equally noxious.
Childhood was a glorious time. We had no molesters. We had no enemies at all. We could ride our bikes and go pretty much wherever we desired to go. I was not questioned as a child, even if I pedaled three miles away and more. As long as I was home in time for dinner, I was OK.
But now? Now I'm 67. I can't pedal a bike wherever I want. I have problems. The only thing that is the same is that I am home by dinner. I don't have (currently) any major illness. Oh, I have minor aches and pains. But nothing major. Yet, I have a shortage of "wind" and a sore knee. I cannot do much at all, and have had to give up any physical exertion.
Just getting in and out of a car to perform my house-to-house ministry is tasking. Yet, I go on. Yet, I will continue to go on, until my breath is gone. Still, each day is a little more difficult. Are you currently facing the same?
Image Credit » https://pixabay.com/en/old-people-couple-together-616718/ by Huskyherz