Your Feet Keep Growing

Your feet keep growing. I never knew that.

When I was 18, I was 5½ feet tall and wore a size 7 shoe. Now days, I’m most comfortable in a 10. I can hardly believe it. I’m no taller, some heavier (110 lb. was too skinny), but my feet probably have added a pound, themselves.

I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe this foot growth in old age indicates something else going on in the personality or psyche.

Long ago, I also used to say about carpet that I disliked it. I would say, “I prefer a firmer foundation.” It was a sort of religious statement, I suppose, likening carpet to sugar coating the truth, or something. I’ve always preferred hardwood or ceramic tile, or even linoleum; not carpet, and I wanted it to appear that I had spiritual reasons for it. It was an unfair assertion, on my part. I don’t use it so much, anymore, unless I find someone discouraged about having big feet.

Now my feet are big. Hmph. I have that firmer foundation, now. Along with it have come larger ears and a longer nose. They never stop growing, either.

That explains how someone as elongated as some elderly folks appear to be could find spouses who thought they were cute, in their day. Cuteness has not changed.

Facial structure and appearance does, though. It’s not just wrinkles we’re up against—we face (literally) a long (literally) list of appearance changes, given enough longevity. (No pun.)

I strongly desire the longevity, but am appalled at the lengthening I find in the mirror.

Used to be, I could stay trim with only the exercise that housekeeping provides. Now days, I need strength-training exercises, first, just to be able to perform the housekeeping. Used to be, I enjoyed a short workout with a hoe. Now days, I can put myself out of commission if I reach up wrong to grab the hoe from the shed.

I have not spent long years inactive—just a short winter of no hoeing can lay me up.

Same for twenty minutes of hoeing.

The reason, they tell us, is the body does not replenish muscle as efficiently, in old age as in youth. I guess it’s too busy making longer bones, or something.

So, if I’m a building with a firmer foundation and added square footage, I also need the walls re-plastered and the stairways reinforced on the interior. I think that is true spiritually, too.

I have deeper thoughts, more strongly believed, but I forget them by the time I sit down to type them to you. It’s called longevity. I like it over the alternative.