Like mist, health and age insist. It's not as if there were some mean intent. They just seem to seep and curl into a scene that once bubbled with intent and importance. What once were assumptions bump into questions posed by a dwindling interest and competence. The medical professionals who are there to "help" and "improve" may be very good at what they do, but their very doing inches the mist into nooks and crannies of what once were easy-peasy assumptions.
What will you rely on when there is nothing to rely on? Or, not exactly "nothing" -- the mist is something, after all, but what it is seems to be just what it is ... reliably unreliable as it slips across the green fields of the past. Tiring, infuriating, panicking, nuzzling ... the mist comes quietly but lacks even silence. To mention it is to risk whining, but what the hell, a good whine now and then seems to go with the territory.
Sometimes I imagine I will turn some corner and be consumed by a concern with spiritual life or political skulduggery or something not quite so misty. Maybe so -- you never know.