There’s a bit of dialogue in an episode of “Everybody Loves Raymond” that I really enjoy. Raymond (or maybe Debra) refers to Frank as “bald and gassy.” To which a friend of Frank’s responds, “I knew him when he was just gassy.”
The other day, I referred to myself as “old and crotchety,” and my husband quickly responded, “I knew you when you were just crotchety.” Of course, he was teasing, because I have never really been a grumpy person (well, okay, there’s an occasional burst of irritability now and again, but I’m only human).
My remark was actually brought on by watching our pooch one morning. He’s over 13 years old, and as a Labrador/Great Dane mix, he’s a big guy. In the last couple of years, Forest has developed severe arthritis and his back legs are quite stiff. This doesn’t prevent him from insisting on a daily walk and continuing to bring us toys to play, but it does create more difficulty in those pursuits.
I was watching him as he came inside on a damp day. We make him lay down so we can wipe off his feet before he goes onto our carpet and the poor old boy has such a hard time getting all the way down, and then getting back on his feet. Then, he didn’t want to come over to get his pills. We finally enticed him over near us and instead of snatching the pills out of the air (which he’s done for years, now), he would watch them as they bounced on the floor near him. Then he’d look up at us, as if to say, “what, no bacon?” Then I have to go find a piece of cheese to hide them in and trick him into taking his pills.
Then he wouldn’t eat. We tried adding a bit of hot dog, some cheese, and finally some cooked carrots. These are all his favorites. The food sat in the dish. He didn’t appear upset, or ill, he simply didn’t want to eat that day. (The next day, he gobbled food as if we starved him as a hobby!) We never starve him of course, he’s just getting grumpy in his old age.
So, we were eating breakfast and watching him and I realized that I’m getting older, too. And honestly, now that I’ve lived a few decades (plus a few more), I understand about getting crotchety. My body is telling me things I don’t want to hear, and the older I get, the less tolerance I have for “stuff.”
There are days my knees complain if I have to get up or down too many times. I used to be able to garden all day and get five yards of mulch spread. Now, after two hours, my body says, “hey, tomorrow’s another day.”
I used to devour food whenever I could. Now, I find that I’m not always hungry for lunch, so I skip it. And I don’t really notice missing the meal. I’m not angry or upset, I’m simply not hungry.
I’m not wild about the incredible number of pills I have to take, either. Granted, mine don’t – for the most part – taste like some kind of treat. I just swallow the vitamins and minerals down with water. But I have fantasized about just leaving them on the table. If I didn’t think my joints would be even stiffer, and my muscles would cramp at night, and my doctor would grouse at me, I’d probably let them sit there, too. Unless, of course, someone hid them in a piece of chocolate or cinnamon toast. Then I could probably get them down.
I get that our dog is likely tired of all the stiffness in his joints, not to mention the confusion of life. People telling you what to do all day long, making you work rather than playing a fun game, and refusing to take a walk just because it’s raining (or snowing).
Sometimes I’m weary of all the “noise,” too. Noise like people raving that it’s going to snow (it is April in Ohio, so it shouldn’t be such a surprise). Noise like people acting like they can’t wear a mask to prevent the spread of a deadly virus because it’s “hot.” Noise like scam calls on our phones and incessant requests for money from bogus organizations. So I guess I’m getting old and crotchety, too, just like our dog.
Once you reach a certain age, getting grumpy just comes with the territory, I guess. At least I have my daily walks and play time to look forward to!
When my grandma was in the garden wearing her long dress, long apron and sun bonnet singing away as she chopped weeds, I wonder if she was trying to not let the “old and crotchety” in. When she was in the fields picking wild greens, she was singing away. I was always by her side. Never once did I hear her complain about her aches and pains, but I know she had them. At night she would rub some kind of smelly stuff on her legs, but no grumpiness. She lived into her 90’s in her own little house.
I’m only 83 and it now takes me 20 minutes to do exercises that last year only took 10 minutes. I use to be able to wear shoes that I purchased right out of the store without adding a thing to them. Now I need toe spacers, bunion cushions, liquid corn removers and orthotics! It takes me 20 minutes just to get my shoes on! Oh, I forgot to mention the knee brace. That has to go on before the shoes.
If I work in the garden, sweep and mop, or use the vacuum, I need wrist braces and back and abdominal supports. I’m a walking pharmacy! I’m on every vitamin that’s supposed to build up your bones, muscles and immune system! I do believe I detect a tad bit of sarcasm here. No, no that’s the crotchety coming out.
Yes, Susie, some of those big vitamins are hard to swallow. I read that you shouldn’t cut them up or crush them if they are time-released because you could over-dose. However, you can buy pill splitters and crushers. Dysphagia = a swallowing disorder. It could be all in our head. High-five to Matt! I did try one of their suggestions of putting the vitamin on my tongue, take in a moderate amount of water, point your chin down toward your chest and swallow. It worked for me! But I’m not telling anyone else to try this! It seems that would be the opposite of what you should do.
But, hey, another option! We can buy Pill Glide! A lubricant we can spray in our mouth and make that vitamin slide right down! Where there’s a pill, there’s a way!
Sue, our old dog, Mike, lived to be 19 years old. He was mostly deaf, blind in one eye and had arthritis really bad. I’m sure Heaven was a real blessing for him.
Yes, as we grow older I’m thinkin’ maybe we have earned the right to become a little bit crotchety. But if I can still work in the garden, sweep, mop, vacuum, wash dishes, do laundry, change my bed sheets, cook and clean — what am I complaining about! I am blessed! Have a great day, Susie!
Oh, Bets, you made me smile! And such great ideas! I’ll be trying that pill glide! And you know, I don’t remember my grandma complaining about her aches and pains, either. Our role models for aging 🙂 Thanks for writing!
old and crotchety should be badges of honor – not disgust – just have those a decade or so younger than you wait till it hits them and see what they say then – if they can even talk with any sense – apology accepted your young whipper snappers!
You are so right, John. Years ago a young church member (maybe 25 years old at the time), said to me, “I do not like old people.” That truly disgusted me. I dearly loved my grandparents and older people. They had so much more knowledge and wisdom that I needed. This woman’s husband left her a widow in his early 50’s. He had told me earlier that “so-and-so” thinks she will never get old. She would be in her 70’s now, and I’m sure she has a few aches and pains. And as we well know, if she lives longer, there will be more to come. Hope that’s not too big of a shock for her!