The older I get the cooler I get.
I’m not talking about cool, like I was in high school, with my hair feathered back and collar up. I’m talking about temperature.
At some point in life, I went from having a body constitution that could withstand harsh elements to sitting in my recliner at night with a blanket covering my legs.
I can pinpoint when the pendulum swung the direction it’s going now. In our younger days as a couple, I ruled the thermostat with an iron fist. It wasn’t allowed to go over 65 degrees in the winter. My wife likes to recall the time that her mother was visiting and remarked at how cold the house was, and I instructed her, politely I’m sure, that she should put on a sweater.
That was at my peak period of always being warm. No coat was necessary in the winter.
Then, the event happened that forever changed me for the colder. I was at a work training session about a half-hour drive from home. It was boring, and I wasn’t feeling well. I got worse as the day wore on. By the time we were released, I knew I had a fever and horrible headache. I battled my way home, though I was somewhat more delusional than usual, so my wife drove me to the hospital.
My temperature upon arrival was 107 degrees, which my wife was told was an adult record at that institution. I didn’t get a plaque or my name on the wall, however, but I did get my own room pretty quick. They feared I had meningitis, so they tried to do a couple spinal taps that were unsuccessful because I was dehydrated.
Luckily, the antibiotics worked, and I was back on the streets within a day. It was summer. And I was cold. I chalked it up to recovering from illness. In the ensuing days, weeks and months, I realized I was a changed man. I probably should have made amends to all those I made cold for the first half of my life. I live with the guilt every time I sneak the thermostat up a degree or two.
It all came full circle last week. We went to visit our daughter and son-in-law. We walked in the door to their home, and it was actually colder than it was outside. I remarked as such, and I was informed that it was 58 degrees. I wondered aloud if perhaps that could be increased by at least a small amount, but preferably at least 10 degrees.
And my wife spoke: “Maybe put a sweater on.”