I am eighty years old. If I want to behave like a five year old, I could state that I am almost eighty and a half years old. My car is 12 years old. I don’t think a 12 year old adds the half year but might say she is almost thirteen years old. So I will state it that way.
I have been for a few checkups in my years. Most have been routine except for four kids and an appendectomy and eventually two knee replacements and, very recently, a pace maker. Big deal.
My car has made the appropriate visits to the Subaru garage getting the usual work done, and always getting a power wash before I pick her up. She has a few bangs and dents. Well, I have a few also. I think hers add character. Do mine? who knows.
At any rate, my Subaru went in for routine work…, only she needed more…. thousands of dollars more. Oh well, it is my intention to keep this Subaru until it is an antique. For a 12 , I mean almost 13 year old car, she has less that 50,000 miles on her. I have no idea how many miles there are on me. I have traveled quite a bit and lived on the east and west and south east coasts. I assume it is a lot of miles. How do you judge miles on a person? They never installed an odometer in me, though I have been told I have a ten year battery life in my pace maker.
The dealer offered me a loaner car. I have seen news about all the bells and whistles in new cars, whistles that are supposed to help the elderly cope with driving into older ages. The mirror records what direction I am going. When the car backs up I can see behind me. I haven’t even figured out all the gadgets on the dash board except to see a screen that says I should read the screen when not driving. I have only had this car a day!
Where are these gadgets for me. I suppose new knees and a pacemaker are new gadgets and they certainly cost thousands, but I want a shiny new me, no aches and pains, no wrinkles and gray hair.
On second thought, I will take what I have. 80 years of wonderful memories, of watching my kids grow into wonderful adults, of hearing of the lives of the grand kids and waiting someday to hold a great grand child. I will look through the photographs of our travels and try and remember all we have seen and done. And I will enjoy Saturday lunches with Amelia and visits and phone calls from the others. I do regret I did not have all those events with my own parents, only because I moved too far away for those visits.
Eighty and half, approaching eighty-one…. only lets not get too carried away with these years unless you can replace my head gasket as well.