How to Live Without Your Teeth, Hair or Hearing.
When aging asks us to live ‘without’…
I am not sure why aging has to bring so many losses, calling me to learn how to live without something new each day. I get up to greet a new day, full of possibilities and dreams Until I am greeted with unwelcome news.
All seems well until I get to the bathroom and look in the mirror. I have been told that my body repairs itself while I sleep, but you can’t prove it by me.
When I take my car to a repair shop I expect to find all systems running smoothly, without wrinkles in the paint or 2 flat tires when I pick it up.
But here I stand looking at wrinkles and hair so fine that it would be useless to a bird for nest-building.
My feet are worse than two flat tires as I stuff them into shoes with thick orthotic inner soles, groaning silently at one of the mysteries in life –
the older (and shorter) I get,
the farther away my feet are!
My tongue is feeling around in my mouth for a tooth that I left at the dentist’s office as a downpayment for his kid’s college tuition.
And this is how my day begins.
How to live without
Do you have to ask why, when I get to my study, I continue my early morning routine with some meditation and prayer?
This is my number one secret to living well, even as my body begins to rust. I have many miles to go before I sleep!
And I plan to live them well. So along with meditation and prayer, I must add a spoonful of humor to ease the strain on aging bones.
Next, I take my service dog, Dekker, all dressed up in his work suit, and head out the door to get some exercise.
I no longer climb mountains or run marathons.
In fact, with the stiffness not only of age, but also from MS, I use a walking bike to keep my balance and go slow enough to watch birds, gaze at gardens, spy butterflies, and occasionally a hummingbird flying past my field of vision.
I remember the days of bicycling in the wind or running to catch a bus. I can no longer do these things, at least not as mindlessly as I did when young.
Slowing down has given me the gift of awareness.
Today I am Present to life and death beneath my feet—aware of worms or dandelions when I cross the lawn, present to whispers of encouragement from the giant spruce over my head, present enough to know when my body has had enough so I can head back for a glass of cold iced tea.
The loss of hearing adds new life skills
Sometimes I walk with my sister whose hearing has gone the way of my perky boobs.
It seems such a waste not to be able to recycle spent body-parts but after decades of noise and gravity, ear drums and boobs have no resale value.
Frankly, I am not at all disabled by a sagging bosom, but it is a bit lonely not to be able to talk about things both important and trivial with loved ones who cannot hear what you are saying.
What can you do if you lose your hearing?
Of course, you can ignore the problem and wonder why people are talking about tympani doodles for supper.
Alternatively, you can practice the lyrics of a ballad that keeps getting more familiar: “Huh? What’d you say? Say it again?”
It is a refrain few people want to hear and even fewer can sing in tune.
My sister is a pro at lip reading and there is something sweet about having a conversation with someone who attends to my face so faithfully.
When I am with her I am reminded once again to be present in ways I seldom thought about when we were young and all our parts worked without a hitch.
I must pause long enough to look her in the eye to be sure she can see my lips as they say “ we are having zucchini noodles for supper.”
When you lose your hair
Is it a burden to live without hair? My son who was bald before he was thirty would say no.
My neighbor who lost all her hair to chemotherapy would disagree.
I think the issue of thinning hair or balding skulls is a gender issue.
For myself, I wear my hair short and struggle to keep the 77 strands in the back covering a bald spot that I must have inherited from my son.
No, wait! I have that backward.
Oh well. One unexpected gift to thinning hair as I age is no longer having to shave my legs and sweaty armpits. I am saving a lot of both money and time that used to go to the beauty industry.
Finding wisdom from a loss
And about that tooth I left at the dentist’s office?
I really would like to have it back, especially now that my other teeth are rearranging themselves according to some layout I wasn’t born with.
Perhaps someday I will get a replacement for it…or even a whole mouthful of new ivories.
It’s the looking ahead towards the horizon of continued losses that I have decided to put in the same category as a travel adventure in a foreign land.
I can read guidebooks, talk to people who have journeyed much farther into the landscape of old age than I have, read their books, and marvel at their wisdom.
I am willing to part with a tooth or ten for a share in a piece of that wisdom….even if I have to learn how to read lips.
