It’s Not All

Oh, I must admit there are things I miss desperately on this last leg of the journey.

I miss dexterity; the ability to whirl quickly. I miss the joy of speed, something I relinquished without having time to bid adieu. One day I remember it being my companion; the next day it had left, apparently, forever.

I miss spontaneity. I never had it in excess, so when it diminished there was virtually none in my life.

I was prepared for some of the losses. My Mom had lived a long life, and while remaining amazingly active, admittedly, there were obvious changes.

It’s all part of the game, as someone once remarked, or maybe I did.

However, there are also unanticipated joys.

The first is when I am asked, “Why don’t you?” I no longer feel a compulsive need to explain endlessly.

When I hear the words, “Why aren’t you?” I can smile and refuse to offer an excuse.

Oh, indeed there are compensations, and I remembered that this a.m,. It is an ordinary day, but like other ordinary days, there are schedules and expectations.

Today I chose to avoid both. Neither were compulsory, nor vital to my well beihg. My absence would not inflict pain on others.

And so I chose one of the perks of age. I relished the second cup of coffee, and finished the last chapter of a marvelous new Ian Rankin book on my Ipad.

I soaked in the luxury of not having to pretend interest in a remote historical site. It would be hypocritical to pretend that I have ever been anything but challenged by the topic.

And I savored the total freedom of no longer needing to conform to others philosophies or ideologies nor offer explanations for my lack of participation.,

And as I luxuriously gazed out at the landscape, and finished the last dregs of an amazing cup of coffee, I thought.

It’s not all bad.