An unmistakable sign of age, but...
Last edited Thu Aug 13, 2015, 08:58 AM - Edit history (1)
Shortly before my 70th birthday last month, a limb on the huge maple tree in my front yard succumbed to wind from a thunderstorm. Still hinged to the tree trunk at its base, it fell slowly onto my roof. It didn't damage the roof, but there it was.
Not a huge limb, and just 8" in diameter where it met the trunk.
I have a chainsaw. I have ladders. I have ropes. I looked at the limb and plotted how to remove it. Where it was still attached to the trunk was about 15 feet above the ground. I thought about it. I guessed its weight and considered what stresses there were that might cause problems. I planned the cuts and figured out where to lash up the big end to control its weight.
Then I remembered that I'd be 70 years old in a couple of days. I went inside and called a tree service. Due to lots of wind damage, they couldn't come until today. No problem. It couldn't fall any farther and there was no roof damage.
So, this morning, three young guys with a big chipper and a truck with a cherry-picker basket showed up. After a short setup, they got to work. 10 minutes later, the limb was off my roof and reduced to chips in their truck. I wrote a modest check, thanked them and watched them drive off.
Sometimes, after due consideration, old guys make smart decisions. 20 years ago, I would have just gone up the ladder and done that job myself. No problem. Not now. I'm slower, not as strong, and have slower reaction time. Let the young guys do it. They need the work.
Things change. Things always change.
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but after a certain age we prioritize what we want to remember. 
Ain't it the truth? 
My DH is 68 and has Parkinson's. The decks around our house are in serious need of replacement, but for some reason, the contractors I called either never showed up or said they couldn't start work until October.
So one bright morning, DH went outside and began tearing up the entrance deck. He got about half way done (which revealed that the framing needed to be replaced too) and ran out of steam. He insisted that he can do the job, but it is obvious that he can't. So I called a contractor in the next city on Friday.
I hadn't received a call back by Monday afternoon, so on Tueday, DH was at it again. What remains of my deck is now hazardous.
I called the next city contractor again and he came out Tuesday afternoon. I'm still awaiting his bid.
Meanwhile, I'm really afraid I'm going to take a nasty fall out there. (I ain't no spring chicken anymore, myself.)
I commend you for recognizing that no matter how sharp the brain, how youthful the attitude, the body does slow down and get more fragile with age. The young whippersnappers can do the work. You can put your feet up and know the job was done as well as you would have done... And no aches and pains for it. 
and we can't afford to pay the neighborhood kids much. 
All the data suggests that if we fall after a certain age it is much harder to heal.
I'm going with the data
and physically this old not-gray-yet mare just ain't what she used to be. 
This reminds me of a story about my great-uncle, who was found up on his roof fixing something (loose shingle, I think) when some family members dropped by to visit. He was in his nineties, lived alone in the house he and his late wife raised their family in. He still did all the work around the house, needed no care of any sort -- and seldom, if ever went to the doctor. He lived until he was 96, all of his siblings living well into their ninth decade.
As a child, I used to visit my paternal greatgrandmother, who was in her nineties and lived with her brother, also in his nineties. Their spouses had died years previously.
I can only hope to do half as well.
