Cruising

We've just returned from our third cruise in thirteen months, spending every dime we have to see the world. It’s all about making memories.

David has a difficulty maintaining his balance that indicates his cerebellum is shrinking faster than it should. We don’t know how long that’s been going on, or how quickly it will develop. It doesn’t bother him, but his doctor says he may be walking with a cane in ten years. And with my unstable back who knows what problems lie ahead for me. Our physical ailments notwithstanding, we don’t feel old, so we’re grabbing for the gusto while we’re both still mobile, with the help of Silver Sneakers to keep us limber and strong.

Last year took us to Spain and Morocco in March and to Russia in June. The latest took us to Rome, Athens, and Istanbul. We've climbed the ramparts at the Alhambra. We've managed lengthy walks through the Kremlin and Red Square, the steep steps of Roman alleys, the muddy paths of ancient Olympia, the rocky terrain of the Acropolis. We've negotiated slippery marble at Ephesis and the lumpy lava-paved streets of Pompeii.

We each only fell once on this most recent voyage—me tripping over a wooden ramp at Topkapi Palace, Dave missing a step in the ship’s dining room. We've discovered our swing dancing days are over, but we can still enjoy the music as we sip our cocktails. I routinely fetch David his breakfast coffee and orange juice in the ship’s cafeteria when the decks are atilt. In short, we’re coping.

When the cobblestones and stairs on shore excursions get to be too much, we’ll still have our spotless staterooms with towel-crafted critters on the bed every night, the fabulous food, the evening entertainments, the bingo, the music everywhere, and the attentive bar servers to make happy memories as we cruise into the sunset.