This getting old stuff is for the birds.  What is it that they always say?  Growing old isn't for sissies?  Well I'm feeling like a big fat sissy long about now.  

It happened like this.  I somehow got it confused in this aging mind of mine that I was taking off for my monthly R & R get-away tomorrow morning.  Told everyone about those plans.  Packed my bag and everything.  Did all the extra things I have to do in order to be gone for a few days.  And then my eyes fell on the calendar late this afternoon.  Guess what?  It was written right there in black and white.  I don't leave until Saturday.  Monday...Saturday...they don't even sound the same.  How could I have messed up so badly?  Now I have to back pedal.  Admit to all sorts of people that I messed up good an proper just like your average old lady routinely does.   Would rather crawl in a hole and die, but I have to own up to my mistake.  Eat humble pie.  Put on a big smile.  Joke about it.  Give the allusion that I'm growing old graciously.

My one and only consolation is the certain knowledge that it gets worse from here, but on the other side is Glory.  So I'm OK with that.  Eagerly looking forward to the Fullness of Life as a matter of fact.  And yes, I'm learning to accept all the eccentricities of old age.  Viewing it as the passageway to Heaven and Home.