In 20 Years

I'll be 74. 

My husband will be 92

I might be a widow. 

My parents will be gone. 

My brother will be 78 

My nieces will be 40 and 42

My sweet fuzzies sitting here with me now will be gone. 

I'll have retired and won't know my current co-workers anymore. 

If our democracy survives the fascist infiltration, I might be blessed with a safe place to live out my final years. 

That is if everything goes on the average...It could all change on a dime and I could be hit by a train tomorrow. 

But looking at it all on that average, I'm ok if 74  is it for me. So many dear ones have already gone on. I'll be quite fine to join them in the Summerland...To find out if my spiritual path meant anything real at all. If not....I probably won't know. I'll simply be gone. 

A perk of getting older is that you cling less to the idea of living to a ripe old age. 

No, I'm not looking to leave anytime soon. But I'm content enough to embrace that it's all fleeting and that my happiest years have long past. I'll coast from here and hope the best for those on the ride behind me. 

Seize each day, my friends. It really is all we have. 

At the moment, I am here on the couch with my sweet cats and dog. My dear husband is in the kitchen washing dishes, listening to some Billy Joel on his earbuds. I am sharing these thoughts with you - people I know in 'real life' and those I might know only through typed text, but whom I cherish. 

And I am happy.

- Helen Jojo of the Shire