Twenty-Something vs. Seventy-Something

We watched a television talk show today about twenty-somethings who have working-world confusion and do not want to leave home or go into a lesser lifestyle. Do the people who decide how these programs are formatted not know that the same identity confusion lies at the other end of the working world? We awaken every day with a lack of purpose and a debilitating sense of ennui. At one time in our lives, we had a sense of importance and validation for taking up space with our bit of protoplasm. Surely, there is more to life after work is done. Our hearts hurt when we look into the mirror and see an older person and realize that there is no going back --- only forward into an unknown abyss. I don't think most people question their lives on a daily basis. They get up and live --- and then go to bed again. We, on the other hand, scrape each other raw with the desperate searching for something to do with the tiny amount of life that is left to us. We don't want to waste it, but in persuing the "great American dream", we lost sight of where we were heading fifty years ago. I want to be the happy, cheerful person my husband married over fifty years ago, but suddenly I am desperately looking for a reason to be happy about living on the tail end of life on a downhill pull. My own children don't seem to be aware that we might not be around very many more years or that there could come a time when we will need elder care. Perhaps, that is what is really bothering me --- I never want to become so incapacitated that I cannot take care of myself. I want to stay useful and vibrant until the day I am planted in a little box of ashes.

A lady of great beauty and grace has just stopped by and we talked of life, love, marriage and spirituality. I am left wishing I had her serenity and adaptability. Eva,--- God loves you and so do I. My thinking on old age will surely evolve as we are led along the way this spring. We will be back in Ohio, where regeneration of life is more visible than it is in Florida.

Behind the Wheels

There are those who would think that several decades of marriage would make two people think similarly. The problem occurs when you take into consideration that men think with testerone coursing through their veins and women think with estrogen levels going up and down depending on the time of month or the time of life. For purposes of this blog, my darling, forever husband will be referred to as HRH. ( His Royal Highness) HRH is truly the love of my life, but now that we are past the child bearing stage, his testerone has been converted to aggressive competition on the road, on the golf course and any other place where folks keep score. Here in southern Florida people drive as though they just escaped from the asylum. A space between you and the car immediately in front of your car means someone will make a lane change in the blink of an eye. You better not blink or you will hit them in the arse and the insurance company will hit the delete button on your account. Yellow lights do not mean "proceed with caution", but instead mean "hurry like heck before the cars going the other way can gather enough speed to wipe you out"! So, HRH and I drive around town with him aggressively keeping ahead of other drivers, who might want to make it to the next corner two seconds faster. I do suck wind far more than most women are allowed and occasionally make pointed comments like, "Oh, look out" or "Cops on the right up ahead" or "There is an old lady on a bike over there" or "Stop sign"! Perhaps, my mind thinks he has suddenly gone blind, but I really believe the only people who worry about how someone drives is a person who is also a licensed driver in a passenger seat. Passenger seated people have no control over how or where the vehicle goes, so we make useless comments .... just to be on the safe side. There is no answer to a problem as old as the automobile, because we cannot change from women into men. Yes, HRH is aggressive, but is the best driver I know and I would go with him to the ends of the Earth. HRH would like to invent a seatbelt that covers my mouth, but it looks like someone beat him to it. I'm going to patent a protective steel plate for the floor to keep passengers from sticking their right foot through the floorboards.