Triumphs
Waking to moonlight in the middle of the night, making it safely to the bathroom without tripping on the rug in the hall, managing to pee without splattering the floor, the seat, the wall, or my pajamas, climbing back into bed, staring at the stars’ diminishing light until I manage to fall back to sleep. Waking to birdsong in the morning, walking to the bathroom without bruising my left arm against the door latch, shaving without cutting my face, getting in and out of the shower with neither a slip nor a fall and without dropping the soap, drying those parts of my body that are now so difficult to reach, especially between my far-off toes, pulling my shirt over those wet and sticky patches still damp from the shower, negotiating each leg of my pants hanging on to the arm of the rocking-chair so I won’t fall over, tugging the pulleys of the plastic mold that allows each sock to glide onto my feet, oping the heel will end up in the right spot, forcing swollen toes into shoes now much too small, hobbling to the top of the stairs and lurching down them with my stick in hand, cautiously, one step at a time … on guard for the cat, the edge of the steps, the worn patches where my cane might catch or slip … one more step, and I’ve made it down. The first of today’s miniscule triumphs.
rogermoorepoet 
One other thing one learns the hard way, even though it may seem ignominious for a male: At night-time, when your aim is off and the stream is likely to trickle over your balls onto your legs and the floor if you don’t free the little guy from his cowl where he is taking refuge, SIT DOWN TO PEE, like a little girl.
Even with a well-directed stream, it’s amazing how much side splashing there is onto cupboard-side, floor, everywhere.
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At our age, John, we are now able to speak the unspeakable, and to do the unthinkable.
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They are certainly are little triumphs and are to be celebrated. It’s only when you experience them that you truly understand.
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Old age isn’t for cissies! I am beginning to understand what my parents and grand-parents went through. Si jeunesse savait, si vieillesse pouvait. There is so much left to learn!
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I’m glad you made it safely through all that and down the stairs, Roger. It augurs well for the rest of the day. Jan Hull
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Quite a bit of fiction in there, creative non-fiction, but I must admit I do feel a little bit like that some mornings. Today was a good day, except for -26 C when we got up. Actually, this is a rewrite and a re-structuring of an older piece. It was fun to write … what else can I dream up that can go wrong … shirt inside out, shoes on wrong feet, cat sicked up at bottom of stairs ….
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