The cartoon heading up my post today made me think of the right and wrong ways to sit in a chair when you’ve hit the golden years. It reminded me of a time when an elderly aunt was visiting my young family and decided to sit in our recliner. She enjoyed the ability to stretch out and put her feet up with just the touch of a lever. When it was time to get her out of the chair, it took two of us to do so.

Lately, I’ve become a slave to my recliner chair. I don’t always recline in it, for fear I might not be able to get out of it. It has become a friend indeed, however. I found out yesterday, during church fellowship, that I’m not the only one spending a lot of time in my chair these days. Most of my friends are close to my age so we all suffer from the same malady. One lady referred to getting sucked into that chair every night just in time for “Jeopardy.” I was listening to my own life coming from her mouth. She continued that she stays in that chair until it’s time to turn in for the night. “I do too,” I replied. I’m convinced this is a common disorder for those in my age range.

When we purchased my lady’s recliner chair, it was smaller than most. My husband, being a small guy, sat in the chair for the first few years before migrating to the couch. Now I’m spending my time in the recliner. I’m not sure it was equipped with memory foam, but has now adjusted to my physical form and literally sucks me in when I sit down to watch “Jeopardy.” Never, in my wildest dreams, did I envision myself sitting in front of the tube, surrounded with snacks, beverages, a remote and a box of Kleenex. The Kleenex is there because I’m still coughing my head off and have been for three months.

There is a certain way a lady should get into a chair. The proper way is to turn your back to it, feel the chair behind you and gently sit on the edge of the chair, sliding back into position with no commotion. When you hit your 80s, nothing comes without commotion and grace is something that only God has to give. You race to the chair, remote and snacks in hand. Perhaps you use a walker to get there. Some are equipped with seats so you can set all you gear on there until you reach your destination. It’s probably a good idea to have a couple of small tables on each side for all your stuff. Once the chair swallows you, you can arrange your goodies in the proper places. This allows you to manage just about anything from that chair, except if you have to make an emergency trip to the bathroom. That’s a whole other story. I do have visions of Tom Hanks in “The Money Pit,” being swallowed up by the floor below him and hanging from the ceiling by a rug.

I guess I have actually grown old in the past year. I’ll be 84 in June. I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to remove myself from the house into my garden at that time. Of course, I won’t have my chair out there. I wonder if they have walkers that recline.