It used to be the mirror. Now, it's the sounds.

I'm talking, of course, about the daily reminders of the ever-advancing aging process.

I remember my Gramps as he got older, letting out some interesting yells as he got out of his chair, then trying to pretend nothing happened by doing a little shuffle dance and laughing. My Dad made some interesting sounds and had a unique way of breathing through his teeth after exerting himself.

But they were getting old. I, in my mind of course, remain 25 years old and invincible. But a couple of weeks ago, I began to notice things.

Along with my sister, I was visiting my Dad in hospital. Just half-standing, half-leaning against a ledge when it happened. A staccato blast of rifle shots rang out. Well, it sounded like that anyway.

"Ow, (bleep)!" I exclaimed.

"Was that your knee?" asked my sister.

"Yup."

"Holy."

"Yup."

I wasn't even really doing anything, just adjusting my stance. I tried to get a little more comfortable and another weird, guttural groan emerged.

"Yup," I said, pre-empting the "was that you, too?" comment I knew was coming.

So that got me to thinking. I wonder how many other sounds I make that are strictly age-related. I started to keep track. Luckily for anyone reading this, I haven't recorded any of them to terrify you as well.

Turns out I have varying sounds for all kinds of things. And I can't stop thinking about them now, each time. I've created my own monster... me.

When I wake up and get out of bed, there's an 'unnnnnnhhh' sound as the remnant of my abdominal muscles do their best to propel me upwards. Followed by the first 'ow' of the day as my right knee realizes it is moving and shoots the message to my brain and it comes out my mouth. Then the "geez, who the hell is that?" as I see myself in the bathroom mirror, followed by the "oh, it's me" sigh and another 'unnnnnnhhh' as I step into the shower.

My favourite is the "oooh, (bad word)" when I take the first step down into the garage, followed by the varied "ows" and "oohs" and "aahs" until I'm finally on level ground again. Stairs (and prolonged sitting) remain my most fearsome enemies at this point. Going up or down any large set of stairs means a veritable cacophony of strange sounds or utterances.

I've become so attuned to the different sounds that if they were recorded and you played them back for me, I could tell you exactly what I was doing at the time.

"Reaching for something at the bottom of the freezer." (That's right, grabbing for the chicken strips now features its own grunt).

"Trying to pull on my left sock." (The right one is easy, the other side somewhat of an adventure).

"Lifting the grocery bags out of the SUV."

"Reaching for the remote."

"Trying to get the impenetrable inner seal off the milk jug."

"Tying my shoes." 

"Trying to start the lawn mower." (To watch someone younger cut the lawn)

"Grabbing the last sock from the back of the dryer."

"No, there isn't a Harley in the house, I just had spicy food for dinner."

At this point, I've just embraced it. I try to substitute words instead of cursing after a grunt. "Ow... Shiitake mushrooms" or "unnnnnnhhh, Fahrvergn眉gen" seem to help.

I won't give in to the sounds.

PQB News/VI Free Daily editor Philip Wolf welcomes your questions, comments and local story ideas. He can be reached at 250-905-0019 or philip.wolf@blackpress.ca.