The simple joys of seniorhood
When I became a senior, I wasted two years before I finally took advantage of the 20-percent senior discount. I felt no urgency to get
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When I became a senior, I wasted two years before I finally took advantage of the 20-percent senior discount. I felt no urgency to get
Dying is no big deal. The least of us will manage it. Living is the trick.” That’s a eulogistic remark I love not just for its felicity, but for its infinite range of applicability. It’s by Red Smith, an absolute favorite of mine, too, and I cite it here for my own case.
My daughter Wendy was having lunch with Pia Lim and I thought, what an old old name.
How was the first week of 2017? Mine was quiet. I abstained from the news. My first car ride for the year was going home from my son’s condo after a night of merrymaking, eating and gawking at the fireworks, and I happily discovered there was no toll on the Skyway. Cheers!
The question seems to me to imply that one is either missed or suspected of indolence or, worse, of mischief. In any case, only Margaret Mitchell, by the sheer force of her personality and literary stature, could get away, so majestically, with her reply: “Doing? It’s a full-time job to be the author of ‘Gone With the Wind.’”
To Dad, making memories was as important as accumulating assets you could count on in old age. He certainly made some for himself, and maybe that’s why he was such a cheerful old man.
Yes, tell me about it, Matthew. But if you mean I’m accountable for everything God-given, then I only hope I’m not too late in taking up this mission of retrieving, regrowing and preserving what I can.
Seniorhood need not be the slow, uneventful homestretch of life that it’s widely thought, but rather a new frontier. In fact, as only befits such sense of homestretch as a free and final dash to victory, it should be a lively time.
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