Have you ever asked someone for an opinion about something you own or some aspect of your appearance or personality, and the response is not quite flattering? Maybe interesting, or unusual, or striking, or unique, but its not really a compliment?

Yesterday, someone thought she was paying me a compliment by saying I was agile and spry. Spry! Thats a word you use for an old person who has a bounce in her step or who doesnt groan with pain each time she moves. When I hear the word spry, I have a picture in my mind of an 80-year-old white-haired little old lady in tennis shoes. Im sure this woman didnt mean to insult me, but that word landed on my vanity with a thud. Spry belongs in the same sentence with Granny, another moniker Im thankful not to have been cursed with. Grandma is bad enough. If you think Im not accepting my age, you would be right. I have always had difficulty accepting my blindness, and thats 1 reason I strive to knock it aside when Im on my way to accomplishing a task or a goal. Now here I am, nearing the end of my 60s, and denying the consequences. I refuse to be the stereotypical senior citizen, but actually, todays stereotype is much different from the picture of an older person that was my youthful perception. These days, grannies are running races, swimming laps, cycling for hours, roller blading, skiing, and engaging in any number of active pursuits that used to be reserved for the young. And were not spry! I now have a new description of myself that innocent well-meaning people offend me with. I am not amazing, and Im not spry.


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