Oprah Winfrey said about aging, “Every year should teach you something valuable; whether you get the lesson is up to you. Every year brings you closer to expressing your whole and healed self.”

I’ve learned something valuable the last six weeks: I don’t bounce. I am glad to announce my closet now owns the walker, brace, and boot that allowed both legs to heal.

Hallelujah! I soon will be walking without a limp.

For at least four weeks before the doctor gave me a walking boot, I sat all day, every day in the recliner. Walking is one of my highest values, and I am not, and never have been, a sitter. Something in those impossibly long days grew a new reality branch on my tree. I admitted I am not young anymore, but I hope to have a few good years left. The consequences of breaking both legs while going for a morning walk convinced me it was time to make smarter decisions.

The first thing was to sell my beautiful bicycle. I thought if a simple fall could break both legs, imagine my damage from a wrecked bike. Upping the odds of staying mobile as I get older is important to me.

In the process of depending on a walker, I learned the danger of rugs. Modifying Toby Keith’s song lyrics, “My bones ain’t as good as they once was.” I need to rid traffic paths of small rugs.

I gave up riding a motorcycle years ago. That alone improved my IQ, but I still need to sell my little pink scooter. Yes, I’m crying, but a few tears are better than broken bones and ripped skin. I’ve never been the most graceful human, and I’m a pitiful patient. Since walking is on the top of my priority list, my choices need adjustment. Aging, for me, includes learning, adapting, and being honest with reality. Of course, I
could rationalize and try to fool myself into thinking all will be okay if I ignore what puts me at high risk of accidents, but I think I am smarter than that. Besides, I’ve proven again; I can fall on flat, smooth ground, so it’s time.

Here’s my plan:

Evaluate home safety and remove rugs.

Stop riding anything with only two wheels.

Slow my pace and keep my head attached to my feet.

Spend good money on stable shoes.

Why does it matter? Robert Frost gave the answer in his poem, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening:

“… I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.”

Giving up a few things now is worth the loss if it prevents future injuries.

Is it time for YOU, or someone you know, to get smart too?

Until the next time: Live while you live.

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