Scrambled Eggs

There is a mystery to the aging process. Deterioration happens when you least expect it. It arrives suddenly like a boulder dislodged from the cliff, falling on the road and blocking traffic for miles. It takes hours and a large crew to handle the clean-up. Last night, while eating scrambled eggs, the most soft and delicate of all food substances, I suddenly feel something solid, rock-like in the midst of the warm mass in my mouth, and realize that a tooth had broken off. Why am I crying? There is a gaping hole in the front of my smile. I face a day or more in the dentist’s chair. But that is not it. I am continuing to deteriorate. The parts are wearing out and need replacement. They do not grow back but will be fashioned from artificial material. This is a reckoning. I am coming up to my 63rd birthday and I cry because I am mourning this loss — of my smile, my tooth, my beauty, my health, my life.