Are you familiar with the children's song, "The Old Gray Mare"? The words are as follows:
The old gray mare, she ain't what she used to be - aint't what she used to be, ain't what she used to be, many long years ago. The old gray mare she kicked on the whiffletree, kicked on the whiffletree, kicked on the whiffletree, the old gray mare she kicked on the whiffletree, many long years ago.
Today, I feel like the old gray mare who ain't what I used to be. There was a time when I could stay up all night long or sleep for a few hours at night and wake up refreshed the next day. Apparently those days have disappeared from sight, or at least, significantly diminished. This revelation came to me over the past thirty-two hours as I have discovered that, of my eight cylinders, I am only firing on six, at best.
Yesterday, Capt. SO and I made a marathon, labor-of-love trip to pay our respects to a wonderful human being whose life was cut short by health issues. As an eighty-year-old, he had lived a good life and left this world as a highly respected and much beloved individual. We should all be so fortunate. We wanted to attend his funeral but could not leave any earlier than the day of the ritual. We set our alarm for "o-dark-hundred", as a former military friend describes early risings, and were on the road at 4:00 a.m. for a four-plus hour car ride. Having elected to return in the same day, we knew the ride back would be challenging but with the help of a book CD and LOTS of munchies, apple slices, carrots, and popcorn, we ate our way back and arrived at the Aqua RV about 7:30 p.m. Needless to say, we had little trouble sleeping last night.
Today, it rather feels as if a fleet of semis has rolled over us. We have remarked several times that if this were thirty or forty years ago, yesterday would have never phased us. I cannot speak for Capt. SO, but I am quite certain that "the old gray mare"......she ain't quite what she used to be.
Ancora imparo
