Fear of Progression

Today, I attended a funeral for one of my aunts. Two of my other aunts were also in attendance, including one who is age eighty-five.

My eighty-five-year old aunt is very nimble. I watched her jump out of her vehicle, while I was concurrently struggling to get out of mine.

When we went to the cemetary, she was several paces ahead of me. I was gasping for air, just trying to walk at even a slow pace. My gate was ataxic, too.

These observations were very sobering. I’ll be fifty-five next month, thirty-one years younger than my aunt. I couldn’t help but think about what my level of disability will be, should I make it to age eighty-five myself.

1 thought on “Fear of Progression”

  1. It is easy to compare our journey to others, but when you compare your journey with yourself, you are doing so much better than expected

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