Inching Forward…

By Dolly Haik-Adams Berthelot © 2025

I just realized I say that a lot lately:

Inching forward.
I’m inching forward.
At least I’m inching forward.
Or to support a friend:
I’m glad you are inching forward.
Often the phrase is spoken during or about recovery from surgery or serious illness.
Those realities are pretty relevant lately, doncha know?

Maybe that’s why I don’t recall ever saying “inching forward” in youth, or young adulthood, or even middle age, though chronic illness had certainly taken a toll by then, and snatched away much freedom. Life slowed my acceleration. But then I still expected great thrusts forward, and screamed against anything less.

Lately, not so much. Lately, I’m quite pleased to inch forward, thank you.

I guess I had to get old to really appreciate inching forward, to truly value it. To be grateful for those inches.

In earlier times, naaaw. In earlier times, I expected to lurch forward, with minimal effort. Leap buildings in a single bound, like Superman, at least metaphorically. To catapult high and higher. To soar. And often, I did, too. So much came so easy.

Often we don’t fully appreciate the good ole days till they are far in the rear view window. The farther away, the better they look. Who knew?

Somehow, somewhere along the way, I aged. Aging is humbling. So humbling. Everything takes more effort. From walking a few blocks, to remembering names, to eating steak, to putting on your own underwear, for God’s sake. Aging is REALLY humbling.

You learn to measure progress in smaller increments. Much smaller. Mere inches. And to be damn grateful for those inches. Because the opposite is no longer leaping forward over tall buildings, but falling back. Maybe way back.

Even falling back mere inches or crashing down is certainly worse than merely inching forward. Way worse. Someday, I may be measuring my life in centimeters…or millimeters…or not at all…

You too, younger folks, or merely-more-perfect-at-the-moment folks, whatever your actual age. But you may not believe it yet. Remember, you heard it here, spoken frankly.

So every single time I can honestly say, “I’m inching FORWARD,” I’ll smile. Emphasis on Forward. A big, quite sincere smile.

The next Musings will drastically shift topic and tone to the sorry state of our American present, a 2025 that has begun pretty much as 2025 and harsh reality predicted. Promised, actually. 

(Featured image Copyright © 2025, Dolly Berthelot, taken Oct 22, 2023, “Facing Surgery Tomorrow.”)