Superman No More
The “Superman” that I once was has slowly slipped away, disappearing. I have been weakened by the ever present, ever pressing Kryptonite of time. Each year my x-ray vision sees new cracks or finds the widening of an old one on this aging “Man of Steel.” It is extremely disheartening. My will remains strong, but more and more often I find my flesh has weakened. I find there are things that I never thought twice about doing--- I just did them. Now it seems I must plan ahead, finding ways to do things differently or to accomplish them in stages.
My grown children worry when I climb onto the roof to do a quick clean of my chimney. It’s not the cleanest. most pleasant, or the safest job for me, but my dad shoveled snow off his house roof when he was in his late seventies and my grandfather climbed ladders and cleaned his house gutters in his eighties. Somehow, I feel like a slacker if I can’t do the things they did.
I’m not an invalid yet and plan to fight old age tooth and nail until I am toothless and my nails are all broken. I will continue to stack firewood in the fall and haul it into my basement for my wood burner until I have gotten rid of my house or until the Lord calls me to my eternal home.
Because I have developed the condition called benign prostatic hypertrophy, an enlargement of the prostate gland that frequently happens in men as they age, I sometimes have difficulty in voiding. My stream is no longer faster than a speeding bullet, nor stronger than a locomotive, and it certainly doesn’t leap forth in an arced stream. Last night was one of those nights. I was not able to fully empty my bladder. The residual pressure caused me to wake up and fly to the bathroom all night long.
Ah, I remember the simple pleasure found in an empty bladder before the Kryptonite of time struck.