I drove to work last week.
He was mowing his grass.

The mower looked like a walker, a little plastic toy that helps rubbery legs gain strength and babies learn independence.
He toddled behind it…and I mean toddled.
Left, right, left, right, every step a deliberate declaration, “I can do this on my own!”
He wore a jumpsuit, one zipper down the front.
His mouth agape, he had no sense of decorum.

It struck me then, it strikes me now, how undignified the poles of aging are…