Years Flying By
The whole process brings my mortality into clear focus. I realize how many folks are younger than I am and am shocked that I’ve gotten so old! Well, maybe not SO old but old nonetheless.
Where has the time gone? Sure, we’ve all asked ourselves that question many times. But now I REALLY mean “Where has the time gone?” And how much do I have left?
Initially, the whole business freaks me out. Then I breathe deeply, close my eyes, and say to myself, “Okay, if you stay healthy and don’t get hit by a bus or die at the hands of some lunatic who flies a plane into the side of a mountain, you may have a good 20 years or so.” My parents both lived into their early 90s and, so why shouldn’t I?
Then I choose a twenty-year period in my life, say from my 50th birthday onward or from the day I married the second time around until the publication of my second book. Wow, I think. A lot went down between those marker events. So, yippee, I’ve got a lot more stuff to look forward to.
I guess I should think about compiling the proverbial “Bucket List” and all those things I want to do before I kick the bucket. Somehow, that seems a bit too daunting. I’d rather just let things play out as they may and take my chances.
And the next time I’m asked to complete an online form by filling in my date of birth, I think I’ll opt not to sign up for that online app or apply for that loan. I’ll print out the damn form and actually fill in the blank by hand. Imagine that!