Well, most of you know that old saying about how we're all here "on a wing and a prayer." I'm a great believer in this and it reminds me to be thankful for my time here. It also reminds me that both the wings and the prayers are up to me. There are days when I try to flap those wings and not a danged thing happens... that's when I resort to prayer.
God and I have an interesting relationship. I don't go to church and he/she doesn't cast me aside with the Sodomites. We talk just about every day but it's a one-sided conversation. The interesting part of this is that answers do come and our conversations reach agreement in some pretty strange ways. For me, that's the best part. It'll come in the weirdest way... an unexpected letter or card, a call from a friend or a credit on an account that I never knew about.
Some days, it's simply a good feeling at the very time I need it. Small stuff. It's what makes the world go around. I don't think God propels all this because I believe goodness comes from people and angels too. Unless he/she's got one heck of a system... I don't think God can take care of this planet without help. Enter the angels... and us. We take care of each other.
Of course, you know I believe in angels. When I grow up, I want to be one but I think the competition will be pretty tough. Here we go again... a wing and a prayer... that's got to be an angel. I have one and she's got a wicked sense of humor. Maybe my angel is a "he." That would explain a lot.
Sometimes I get left with problems I can't solve alone. I have been a limping geezer for about five years now. Some days I am really good and I walk down the beach. The problem comes at the turn. Step, ouch. Step, ouch. Step, ouch, etc. I always make it back to the truck but the following day there will be "hell to pay" for this extravagant show. I don't like this.
In the meantime, every doctor in the world is asking me (and you) to get more exercise. We are supposed to walk, run, jog, jiggle and do other heart pumping activity. REALLY? This is when I remind them that I have difficulty breathing when I vacuum. Do they care? Nope. "Get that heart rate up." End of discussion.
What if I don't want my heart rate up? OK I give. I am so out-of-shape that my heart rate skyrockets when I make the bed. Are you doctor people happy now? Nope. I need to buff up. Don't plan on me lifting weights or jumping on anything. I looked at a folding walker and the price caused me to go immediately to my recliner to collapse. Are you kidding me? In 2017 fitness has a price. My only hope is that my angel will take up gambling and front me some $$ for a walking machine that doesn't make me run.
For a whole lot of reasons, I can't make a muscle that will make me a fit human being. When they were very young, I convinced my grandsons that the things hanging under my forearms were my muscles. They were SO impressed or maybe they just said that because I gave them some red licorice. Now that they are adults, they know the awful truth. Grammy Ocean is a wimp. My wimpy parts have started to take over my semi good parts. There is no amount of red licorice that will change this awful truth.
I am going to try and make a muscle and be healthy so I can get a new hip. The following body parts are exempt from strenuous exercise for medical reasons: hands, arms, neck, lower back, hips, legs (all of 'em), feet, lungs, and all those irritating internal organs which make my life so unpredictable.
I am left with one damned thing. I can smile. I can do that anytime I want. Sometimes I do it so much that it hurts. Why? It's one of the few things I have left that work properly. Take that, you somber surgeons!
So, with all this in mind, I have been told that even my smiley face is flawed because I smoked for 43 years. Really? I have also been smiling and laughing for almost 70 years. I smoked, I drank, I laughed, I cried and I lived my life on a wing and a prayer... of course I have wrinkles and they sure don't stop at my face. I earned every one of them and I've got a lot more to get.
If you see my angel... send 'em over this way. We need to get healthy asap and I think this will be a tough assignment. Step, ouch. Step, ouch. Step, ouch. :)