Now, we all grew up hearing them talk about it, warn us about it, tell us we just “don’t know.”

And we believed them, sort of, you know. Not that it’s something we dwelled on.

Then, as the years rolled by, we started to buy into it a little. We became more open to the possibility.

More years passed, and, lord-a-mercy, we became “them.”  It was happening. Actually happening. Becoming old, with the entire attendant “challenges” that are an inevitable part of the process.

Those worn out sayings take on real meaning.  “Getting old is not for sissies.” “The golden years these ain’t,” or something like that.

What we heard from our elders down all the years was right. The old folks “got it,” it would seem.

And while I think I’m only in the initial phase of becoming one of the “old folks,” I’m sure those many years my junior would feel that I have already arrived at the destination.  One’s perspective all depends on just where you are on the longevity ladder.

Anyway, I’ve asked Sally to be very sentient about two consequences of the aging process.

One, which began a few years ago, at about the same time my salivary glands quit on me, is having a bit of food encrusted in the corners of my mouth. It’s a bit unsightly, I admit. Whenever this occurs she says, “corner pocket,” then “left” or “right,” and I take corrective action.

The second aging manifestation, one I noticed years ago in some seniors, especially men, is what I deem “ slack jaw.”   You know, with the mouth partially agape.  It makes one look, well, not exactly the brightest bulb on the tree.

This condition hasn’t happened to me yet.  When or if it does, my clever mate says she’ll put a strong rubber band-like strap over my head that extends down under the jaw, to keep my mouth closed. (I wonder if, for other reasons, she wishes she had done that years ago. You think?)

You may have noted that I haven’t even hit upon other symptoms of aging, such as loss of balance, hearing deficit, muscle diminution, vision problems, dry skin (terrible cracking in hand and feet during the cold weather months), thinning and some loss of hair, digestive difficulties, declining voice quality (for singing), a bit of memory difficulties (or perhaps attention deficit disorder), plus, well, more to come later, one might realistically expect. And some that aren’t really appropriate to point out here in print.

It’s the price we pay for a continued presence in this journey of ours.

Let us believe that it’s worth the price.