My webbed toes don't wiggle any more.
Time was when they were a parlour act, but they are no longer a double jointed wonder.
My ring finger leans intimately against my middle finger.
they are like an old married couple growing ever more fondly together.
I can no longer screw the tops off pop bottles.
Especially after the grandchildren have been around and nonchalantly put a lock on everything they open and close.
The doctor called a small growth on my back a mere bagatelle
I can't remember his exact phraseology, but it included the word 'senile'
Sometimes I smile a lot in the midst of rapid fire conversations
Well, sometimes you don't want to hear everything that's going on.....
Once I picked fruit with aplomb, but now the top of a 12 foot ladder appears to be a dizzying height
and so is the top of the kitchen step-stool
I can remember the music I learned when I was in my early teens and play it passably as long as my brain doesn't get involved
but for the life of me I can't memorize the notes and the phrases and the order they come in
I understand this is all a part of becoming ancient, but I give grateful thanks that there is just a little part of us that never grows old, and I nurture and count it as precious.