Getting Old

Getting old Reading the papers this morning was a sad affair, so many of the famous stars of yesteryear had succumbed to old age. They were as I´m in their eighties and I felt their death as a sting in my heart, soon it will be my time to go I accept this, but will not sink into depression. Of everything that has happened in my life I feel no guilt hindsight is a waste of time, my lack of success is a bonus I have no laurel to rest on and can do as I please. What is noticeable is my lack of understanding of a language that has changed it is more lose now and that is good, but it takes some effort. The river of words I bathed in, flows slower now it is a struggle to find the right expression, I feel as I´m learning to swim in colder water. Living in Portugal as I do is fine they are gentler here and has patience when I struggle for words in shops I have to resort to poetic expressions. They smile broadly and think what a funny old man I don´t mind, my wife leans heavily on her crutch, and she gets first in line. We try to look decrepit. At the end of this month, I need a new driving license I have spring in my steps, luckily my eyesight is good and the heart and diabetes go unmentioned.