LISTEN TO YOUR BODY - Final Segment (Scroll down for previous segments)

     

       After several rounds, I went to my corner, exhausted.

    I talked to several men who had fought the same battle.  They gave me some excellent advice.  “Pay attention,” they said.  “You’ll see that your body is much more receptive to your wife’s voice; even responding to the mere sight of her.”  Their insight was uncanny.  

  
     The next morning my wife came into our bedroom while I was still in bed.  “Why aren’t you up?” she asked.  

     “I’ve been trying to get up for the last thirty minutes, but my body keeps saying, ‘I just need another fifteen minutes.’  I’m glad you walked in,” I continued, as I quickly threw off the covers and jumped out of bed.  “Those men were right.”

     “What men?  Right about what?”

     “Oh, nothing,” I answered.

     Since that time, I’ve noticed a similar pattern.  When my wife isn’t home, my body seems to have problems with simple things around the house.  The other day it refused to pick up my clothes on the floor.  It would step over them, but it wouldn’t pick them up.  It sometimes refuses to do other simple tasks, such as taking out the garbage.  I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t even fight it.

     “I’ve seen robots do more work,” my wife complained one day, as my body rushed to take out the garbage and pick up my clothes.

     “That’s because their bodies don’t talk back,” I answered.

    Last Saturday, I was relaxing in my recliner, limbering up my thumb for a little channel surfing when my wife walked in.  “I thought you were going to clean the garage today,” she said expectantly.

    “I was just going out the door when my chiropractor told me to go relax in the recliner.  Then she had me do some reaching exercises.  That’s how the channel changer got in my hands.  She said if I keep my thumb moving, I won’t get that dreaded ‘frozen thumb’ syndrome.”

     “She called?” my wife asked with a puzzled look.  “And told you all that?”

     “No,” I said. “She told me to listen to my body, and that’s what my body was telling me to do.” 

     Connie came over and put her ear to my stomach.

     “What are you doing?” I asked.

     “Listening,” she answered.  “In fact, I think I hear a still, small voice.”

     “What is it saying?” I asked.

     “It’s saying, ‘You get out of this chair, and go out and clean the garage, or there’s no dinner’.”

     “I’m surprised I didn’t hear that,” I said as I ran to the garage. 

     On Monday, Lester stopped for a visit.  

    “My chiropractor keeps telling me to listen to my body,” I told him, “but it rarely agrees with me.  It responds much better to my wife.” 

     “Don’t be alarmed. That’s natural,” answered Lester.

     “It must be.  Yesterday I wanted to go to the coffee shop, but both hands had a death grip on the sofa.” 

     “You’d better release that grip,” my wife demanded.  “If he doesn’t get to the coffee shop, there won’t be any peace around here.”  My hands let go, and off I stumbled for coffee.

      I’m glad my wife was home.  Otherwise, I would still be clutching the sofa.  

 

     “Maintaining youth is much easier when you’re sixteen,”   said Lester.


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