Flu Shots

Judging from the packed parking lot, standing room only lobby and the long wait, flu shots are a very big deal. For old people. For sick people. For small children. For my mother. I waited with her. Luckily I had WordWarp that my friend CS introduced me to this weekend. Luckily hand sanitizer was dispensed generously. Luckily the time passed without incident. I've never bought into this preventive measure in the past. Good hand washing and plenty of water, exercise and sleep seem like the best antidotes for virus and colds. Before I became overly obsessed with beating my previous wordwarp score, I watched and listened to the people waiting. Some were distressed the wait was so long. Some were worried they would have a reaction. Some visited with strangers about the weather, Thanksgiving, the upcoming election. But the underlying sentiment was fear. Fear of illness. Fear of death. Fear that their bodies would break down and betray them. And as I watched them manage their fear, observed their brittle bones, sagging skin, freckled hands, dimming eyes, I embraced my own fear. Aging isn't for the faint of heart. It terrifies me to see how rapidly the sand in the hourglass is sifting downward. If it were possible, I would happily jump right into it and block it somehow. I suppose my biggest fear is that I will become old before I have done what I have been sent to do. I fear that I will become redundant. Cranky. No longer curious and charmed by the world. I fear that my body will deceive me and I will be reduced to immobility. I fear that boring, disinterested, complacent, narrow minded, and unimaginative will describe me. And so as I look at this picture - yes it's a bit ridiculous and not pleasant on the eyes, I am at the same time inspired by this woman's tenacious grasp on what she holds dear.

John Barrymore said "A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams." So I left the clinic resolved to live more fully. To fill my now with all my attention and intent.