It is hard getting old…..

As I have aged through my military career, I found so many things that I cannot do any more. I cannot run as fast, do as many push ups, sleep as long, count the gray hairs on my head without going into triple digits…... you get the picture…. One morning early this week I found one more thing that I cannot do as I have gotten older:

 The morning started like all the rest, a quick shower and a short walk to the office. Upon arrival I put the coffee on. One of the soldiers informed me that I might be able to “get out this morning”. That is short for getting on a flight to our destination. We went to the terminal to see if we would be able to get out and we were.

We loaded the plane and were on our way. Now, as we make our way to the plane I felt the early pings of “old age”. Seated on the plane I come to realize that the plane was not ready for takeoff so we waited for thirty more minutes as the pings turned to a constant nagging. Finally we were ready for takeoff. As we taxied, the vibration from the plane began to turn my world yellow. See in my old age I have come to realize that morning coffee is always followed by morning visits to the rest room.

Now here I sit on a plane for a short 30 minute flight that would take what seemed like hours. As I sat and sweating I began to examine the slope of the floor and thought if I were to relieve myself right here at our current altitude and angle of climb it would flow out the back harmless over the country side. As I examine my surroundings I realize that right in front of me was a female soldier. Oh my, this will not work. What will I do?

I sit and listen to my MP3 player and it is playing songs like “Smoke on the Water” every song has something about water in it. The load master on the plane is enjoying a bottle of water and with each swig.. the nagging gets stronger.  As the plane lands I am unsure if I will be able to stand as my nagging has now turned to pain. I have to lean off to one side to stand just knowing that I am about to embarrass myself.

From the plane to the terminal was about a ¼ mile walk but it seems as if I was in a walking marathon. As I approached I see the “golden houses”, three in a row, actually they were blue but it did not matter. As I approach them, I know I heard a golden harp playing.

Our escort said "Sir, I need you identification card." I walked slowly to her with arm outstretched to avoid any more steps than absolutely necessary. I turn and hurry into the little plastic house.  I really thought I might have broken something this time as it did not seem to want to work, but thank God everything turned out.

Old age in this Case HURT really bad…. Go ahead and laugh. Next time I will miss the flight……. Just so you know - you got a minute OLDER while reading this…

Praying for the 15