Betrayed

My body is betraying me.

At 48 years old, I'm experiencing random episodes of temporary paralysis (both my arms), my right upper back is killing me due to an ill-resolved issue stemming from about 1990, my hands are afflicted with moderate arthritis, my knees are wrecked, I'm too heavy by about 60 pounds, and I'm going bald.

If I left anything out, it's either an oversight on my part or senile dementia. At this point I'm not sure. All I do know for sure is that if I was offered the chance for an eighteen year old clone body for my brain to be transplanted into, I'd jump at the chance.

Ah, to be that young again! To greet each morning with energy and vitality; to be able to run and jump without fear of my knees popping out of their sockets or my lungs and heart giving out on me.

To be young again would make me appreciate it so much more than my first time around.

But how would I explain to my kids that now I'm the same age as they are? How would that affect the parent-child relationship? Would we even be friends?

Perhaps it's better this way, but I'm not sure that I like it. I've aged quite enough, thank you--I'm done now.

And so it goes...