As my life winds down-- and no, I caution you, nothing bad
is eminent—but with that being said, I am a realist and each day brings more
proof to an increasingly foggy mind and creaky body that my best days are history
and tomorrow is not so much a mystery anymore. I sometimes unconsciously slip
into a whimsical, mood that looks backwards more then forward, although I
harbor few regrets of days gone by. My life so far has been more then I ever
dreamed it would be, but most of the credit lies in the people that helped
shape my life and not in my own feeble efforts.
Each day when I wake up and slip out of the bed and through
my own efforts dress and make my way down the lane to fetch my paper, I thank
the lord for one more day. I find so much solace in my morning cup of coffee,
sitting on the deck with Molly, looking out over the still waters of our lake.
Listening to a loon far across the waters heralding springtime. So many of my
friends and neighbors once too enjoyed what I embrace, but time has stilled
their hearts or minds and I no longer can enjoy their smiles and lively banter.
For now I am relegated to draw upon my memory for that old companionship. But I
say this with all sincerity --that’s okay.
There was a time in my life when I never thought much about
the past and maybe that’s really because I had no past and yesterdays were just
used up days and tomorrows were the days that counted because they gave me a
fresh start every time the sun came up. Tomorrows were days of hope and a
chance to get it right but they were not without a risk because you weren’t
totally in charge and you often had to pick and choose which fork in the road
to take, because you were languishing there in somewhat confusing, uncharted
territory. Yet you relished the choice, the chance, to make some history of
your own, even if it was wrong.
Life is such a puzzle sometimes but unlike a picture puzzle
we do get to reshape the pieces to make them fit. There are those who will
never fit in where they belong because they don’t want to fit or change and
life for them becomes a black hole in our grand picture and it never is really
complete. This, for the rest of us is sadness personified because we want the
picture to be complete, & perfect. Especially when its friends and family
that are so much a part of it. People that we love so much.
Fast forward to today when this history of mine, brought
about by trial and error, has drawn and painted the way for me to follow and it’s
so much easier to pick and choose my actions now because along the way I have
eaten the sour berries of life and spit them out, savored the sweet ones and
gave them my blessing-- all in this never ending ritual of yes and no’s, rights
and wrongs. Yes my friends, it is this winnowing process that may not be
perfection but it’s as close as life allows me to get. Some day when the lights
are finally dimmed and the curtain goes down for the last time I want my swan
song to be “My way,” and not “Born to Lose.” Allison Blanchard said and I quote.
“Life is beautifully tragic. Giving it
up isn’t the hard part; it’s the living part that everyone struggles with.
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