I can’t find my house slippers. I know I didn’t leave them somewhere because they are house slippers, not grocery store slippers or Dairy Queen slippers. I’m tired of going back again and again to my bedroom closet to look for them, as if they would have shown up there in the last 10 minutes.
They aren’t in the reading room either or by the back door or under the couch in the living room we never use. Nope, my house slippers have just disappeared. I haven’t mentioned it to Sherry, or accused her of any shenanigans, but I don’t trust her about such things. At first I thought she may be paying me back for forgetting to take the bag of trash out of the back of the car last week, so it sat all day in the sun with two mostly empty cans of cat food and an overripe and very black banana inside.
Sherry occasionally enjoys listening to my mumbling words of frustration as I loop from one room to the next room in search of a missing item, but her m.o. is more toward snatching an immediate need of mine, like my glasses or car keys or wallet. Not my house slippers.
Do people in their thirties and forties ever invest chunks of time looking for their house slippers? I doubt it. Things are changing for me as I age. A few mornings ago, I was driving to meet with a couple of bankers to ask for a big favor and I said to myself, “Don, did you brush your teeth before you left?” And I couldn’t come up with the answer so I cupped my hands around my mouth and nose and breathed out to determine the verdict and I almost caused an accident.
What’s great about all of this is it really doesn’t bother me a whole lot. In fact, some of it I find downright endearing. It’s okay. Aging comes with some natural reductions of physical and mental capabilities. My aging also comes with increased understanding and empathy toward others. People tell me I’m more patient. I know I see more brilliant blue skies and smell more lilac bushes than I ever did in earlier years.
We all change. Some changes can be measured in days, others in decades. We initiate and master as much as we can, and learn to accept the things that are out of our reach.
And do slippers really serve a functional purpose in June? It’s not as if my feet are getting cold at night in Nevada.
I’m happy and thankful for an abundant life. Now that’s worth remembering.