Living on purpose

In between the rain and hail - Ozzy and I meander outdoors for some fresh air and short walks through the neighborhood. I’ve been trying to get in some gardening but sporadic down-pours bar the completion of any one project.

Yesterday, during one such meandering, I met George Sr. who is 90 and epitomizes an older version of his son. He is ‘assisted-living’ bound, having just recently lost his wife of 60 some years. For 90, he looked rather spry to me and I couldn’t help but wonder what it was that would cause him to retire into an ‘assisted’ life instead of going to live with one of his children. But then the answer came as quickly as the wondering began, and a shadow of sadness overcame me.

It’s so odd the feelings that creep to the surface whenever I am around others of my generation or older. I suppose it’s a kinship shared only by we who now belong to a privileged club. Members, whether we want to be or not. An unspoken understanding betwixt us that the road is not as long as it used to be so life is lived more deliberately.

And,

speaking of deliberate,

Oz and I are off into an adventure.

 Rain or not.

~