standing Letters

My bad hair day was not due to wind or the rain. It started with shampooing. I used the little containers you get when you stay overnight in a hotel. It was the same brand I use at home, so it could not be bad. I got into the shower and shampooed and rinsed without my glasses. “Did I get the right bottle?” I rinsed my hair as usual. Something was wrong — I reached for my glasses and to my dismay it was moisturizing lotion — ick. My hair did feel “silky and soft.”

Do I need retirement living? With gray-haired men, women walking with canes or walkers, emergency pull cords in each room in case of a fall and prunes on the breakfast buffet?

Getting old is wearing on me, aching knees, tired eyes and sore toes.

I am 72 and I understand that is the new 62. Even if it is a lie, I choose to believe it. This body is doing everything to give me a hard time. I guess I could opt for free housing, three meals a day, with no grocery shopping, no car means no gas and no registration fees and no income tax. I say, take your choice.

Gloria J. Birchell

Westerly

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