TERRY MOSHE
It is tough getting old. Stuff happens and there is little you can do about it. Your body is like an old car that has parts vital to it operating break down and need fixing or replaced.
My brother Ronnie’s mother-in-law lived to be 102. When she reached 100 her family held a big celebration for her. During the celebration she let everybody know that she did not wish becoming 100 on anybody. She lived all her life in her own home, but in the last couple years Ronnie and his wife Barbara had to keep a close eye on her and eventually had to take her car to prevent her from creating a disaster on the road
I’m like that old car that continues to break down and needs fixing and repaired constantly. I had some repairs done May 13 of last year. It was the first time I have had major surgery and I still have not fully recovered, and probably will not. Like an old car, my body will have to continue on even if it lacks the get-up-and-go it once did.
To see just how much I can push the “old car” I am back at the YMCA and doing a little walking to see whether that will help. I managed yesterday (Friday, March 27) to walk 16 laps around the track, which equals a mile. But the old car had to stop every once in a while because it was overheating.
That reminds me of my college days. I had an old 1950 Dodge. You know the kind. It had suicide doors (they opened the reverse of what car doors do today), a great steel body, a fantastic radio, bench seats, front and back, but it also blew a head gasket so often that I always carried extra ones along with a wrench to unbolt the head so I could replace the gasket. I know next to nothing about cars, but if you got a 1950 Dodge that blows head gaskets, I’m the man you need.
I don’t need a head gasket replaced on my body, but I do need a new back and new feet. In a few minutes I’m going to try and fix the leak in our bathroom vanity and I’m not looking forward to it because it’s tough to get down and do anything without the old car back screaming and my feet yelling for me to stop.
It’s embarrassing to be this way. I have always prided myself on being able to do things others my age might not be able to do. I think it’s a thing about the Moshers because I have two older brothers who continue to keep on keeping on without a lot of trouble, although one brother (Ray) is living with an aortic aneurysm that his doctor believes should be fixed by surgery.
Ray, who will be 85 in October, likes to convey the impression he is the toughest of the tough, and maybe he is, but I think he’s being stupid because he refuses to have surgery. To be fair, htough, he takes care of his wife Peggy who needs constant attention. She has chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD) among other tings and is house-bound and Ray says surgery would put him back six months to a year and he can’t afford to be down because he needs to take care of Peggy.
The doctor says Ray has the body of a 60-year-old and he could live maybe five years with his aneurysm. However, it’s like living with a ticking time bomb, or in a sports analogy like having to face Kentucky in basketball. You know defeat is coming, you just don’t know when.
The half-full outlook for me (and for Ray) is that there are lots of people who are worse off. I could cite numerous examples, but I’m getting tired of making excuses and talking about this, so I’m stopping (to fix the vanity leak, hopefully, otherwise the Plumber will show up tomorrow).
Just one final thought, and it’s off the subject. My co-writer worker, Chuck Stark, had a high school baseball story in the Kitsap Sun the other day in which he talked about how some freshmen are having an impact on local baseball teams.
That should not surprise Chuck. It certainly doesn’t me. If you think about it, the year-around select baseball programs that have appeared in the last 10 years are preparing our young kids much sooner for high school varsity sports. I remember talking to Elton Goodwin a few years ago when he started helping out with the John Sedgwick Junior High baseball team (he was coaching the seventh-grade team) and I asked Elton how he was able to coach down to them when he was used to coaching high school kids.
Elton’s response was that the seventh-graders already knew how to play the game well because of these select programs and he could treat them like he did his high school kids because they were so advanced in the fundamentals of the game.
The only real difference now between those seventh-graders and high school kids is physically. I can remember back when I was just a young lad of maybe 10, I had the skills to play against much older kids in basketball and baseball because I had gained knowledge from playing against three older brothers who were exceptional athletes. They cut me no slack, so in order for me to compete I had to find ways to use my lack of size to gain some advantage against them.
I think that is what is going on now with these young kids. They have learned to play against the best from an early age and despite the lack of physical size can compete well against older kids.
Well, I’m leaving now. Think about that and let me know what you think.
Be well pal.
Be careful out there.
Have a great day.
You are loved.