SUMMERTIME MEMORIES

There’s a certain sweetness to summertime memories—the way they live like old film reels, slightly faded at the edges but glowing with warmth.

 

 I miss my electric bike. To me it represented freedom and youth. When I rode it was as if I was twelve years old again. The wind would blow through my hair as I pedaled along quickly and I was exhilarated. I would load my heavy bike into the back of my van and drive to a riding location. My favorite ride was along the Allegany River on a walking path behind St. Bonaventure University. There is not way to describe how at in my seventies I felt competent to navigate that powerful bike. But somehow in a few years it became dangerous for me. My balance wasn't as good as it once was. It was heavy to lift. And I became afraid of falling and breaking a hip. It was a sad day when I decided (with my son's advice) to give it up. I mourned the loss for a long time. I began to feel old when I turned 80. The season of freedom was disappearing in many ways. Now I had to be careful when I walked not to trip and to be sure to lift my feet higher. I tired more easily and needed to sit down and rest more often. Even shopping, one of my favorite activities had to be limited. Now I am moving into a new stage of my life.

 “Suddenly being her age seemed great. She didn't have to look perfect. Hooray And think of all the senior discounts she had to look forward to not to mention Social Security Medicare and Medicaid. So what if she was afraid of getting old Big whoopdedoowho wasn't She wasn't alone everybody her age was in the same boat. She was going to relax and just let herself get older. Who cared if she wore twoinch heels instead of 3andahalf inch heels her feet hurt and not only that she was going to have a piec eof cake once in a while and she wasn't going to go anywhere she didn't feel like going anymore either. Bring on the Depends And the bunion pads and the Metamucil. And if she liked pretty music and old movies so what She wasn't hurting anyone.

Hazel had always said "If you're still breathing you're ahead of the game." And she'd been right. Life itself was something to look forward to and so for whatever time she had left she was going to enjoy every minute wrinkles and all. What a concept”
― Fannie Flagg, I Still Dream About You