Margaret remembers their first neighborhood party. It felt good to be invited.
By 6:30, she felt disappointed in herself. Her feet ached. Her head felt like she was watching the party through glass.
She quietly asked Thomas if they could head home.
Thomas, who sat out two pickleball games that same week, blamed his knees and feeling exhausted himself.
Naturally, he was on board with heading home.
None of it felt unfamiliar, exactly. Margaret had been managing type 2 diabetes with metformin for years.
Thomas had his own daily heartburn pill, the kind you take without thinking about it, morning after morning after morning.
Between the two of them there was a small pharmacy on the kitchen counter.
A statin, a water pill for blood pressure, the metformin, the heartburn medication.
They'd assumed this was just what being over 65 felt like. Low energy.
Foggy thinking. Aches that came and went. Everyone they knew back in California felt roughly the same.
Except here, their neighbors didn't.
That was the part that genuinely confused her.
Diane, their 74 year old neighbor, on her third pickleball match of the morning, sharp as ever while also managing diabetes.
So was Diane's husband. So were half the people who'd danced past ten at the party Margaret and Thomas had left early from.
"How are you doing this?"
Margaret finally asked her, half out of breath just watching Diane finish a set. "What are you all doing that we're not?"

