Life goes on

I look at old pictures and as old as those people in my family look, I realize that I am already older.

Mortality looms.

My new apartment has so many perks.  If I were able to get out and use them I would feel much younger and perhaps even joyful.

Instead I feel like I have been put on the shelf early, that I am just sitting around waiting for my expiration date. 

It has been three weeks since I committed the apparently unforgivable sin of vanity by wearing those shoes.   Every step forward has been followed by five steps back.  Now I am fearful of everything that requires me to put one foot in front of the other.  I never know when that familiar ping will  put me back on the walker, back into total non-commission, back on the shelf -- waiting.

Most of my relatives raced into death's arms busy and productive.  I wonder if there is any value in living beyond that point?