The guy who cuts our grass is out front and we have put his check on a table in the entry foyer like we usually do in case he comes when we aren't home. I have a plan today, though. When he opens the storm door to pick up the check I am going to catch him and ask him to open this jar of jalapenos for me.
Between Dennis and me, we have wonky shoulders, arthritic fingers, toes that don't bend what with the metal inside them, knees that left the building long ago, hip joints that creak and refuse to obey directions, and one leg that has decided it is not gonna do that (no matter what "that" is) no way, no how and another leg that has gone completely missing. Heaven help us if one of us gets down on the floor, or even in a low-slung chair. So, instead of being limber, we have to be crafty. We have special tools and things we've improvised.
We have a lift-chair for Dennis to get up and down. We have a "grabber" which is kind of like a big pair of tongs so some short people in this household can reach up high to get things, (and how did they get up that high in the first place?) or down low to get things (if I fall over trying to reach this those EMT guys are going to be ticked if they have to come out again.) We have a "sock donner" that helps Dennis get his compression socks on and he has adapted a long back scratcher to help him get his prosthetic leg on and for lots of other stuff. We have magnifying glasses to read things with and extra bright lights to shine over documents. The clock in the bedroom has numbers the size of a skyscraper---okay, a three-story building. We have a round rubber disk that usually helps me get jars open.
I try to get creative with some of the other household items, like when I take a jar that the rubber thing-y won't open out to the vise attached to the work bench. It seems like a good idea but then I get confused. I know "righty-tighty, lefty-loosey", but does turning the jar upside down make it righty-loosey, lefty-tighty? Did I tighten it instead of loosen it when I turned?
Sometimes you kind of need a helping hand. My mom, when she lived alone, would get dressed on Sundays up to the point of getting the zipper all the way up on her dress. Then she donned a sweater, went to church and asked the first lady she encountered to finished pulling her zipper up.
A few years----okay, decades----ago, I walked up behind an elderly friend at our church who was struggling with her jacket and helped her put it on. She said, "Oh, I love being old! Everybody always wants to help me." At the time, I thought "How sweet!" but now I'm thinking "Delusional!" (No, really. She was actually that nice. I think the term is "Filled with the Spirit.")
I admit, people do hold doors, offer seats, ask if I need anything, quite often these days. I try to manage by myself, but sometimes things just don't come together, kind of like that time at the gas station when I was trying to put air into my tire. There were two guys watching me and finally they came over and did it for me. Apparently I was letting the air out instead of putting it in. They were very nice about it and didn't start laughing till they were several yards away.
Usually I don't even have to ask for assistance, but when I do, I never have anybody turn me down. Who can resist a little old, gray-haired lady who looks like your grandmother asking for help?
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