Yesterday, going down the stairs to my basement, I fell. My shoes were wet and slippery and my feet went out from under me. I hit the stairs pretty hard, on my back.

My first thought was… this is the beginning of the end: broken pelvis, long hospital stay, declining health in all aspects.

But after a minute I realized nothing was broken or badly hurt. I was shaky. 

And I resolved to walk down those stairs slowly and carefully henceforth. Just like two years ago when I was youthfully skipping down my main stairs and fell. Since then I grip the handrails on both sides and walk carefully.

So falling yesterday and not getting badly hurt is a good thing: a wake up call to accept that turning 75 is a good time to be a bit more deliberate about certain activies.