Feels Like Love

I was going to give myself the day off for my birthday. So, I slept in, loitering beneath the warm sheets. Then I got up, made a cup of coffee, and the next thing you know I’m sitting here in front of the computer, trying not to slouch, and starting to write. I’ve actually been thinking about what I might like to say on the occasion of my 76th birthday. And when I say thinking, I mean just that, because I’ve arrived at no great conclusions.

Two thing keep popping up, however. One, is how many people, friends and family, I’ve lost on my journey to this point. Two is how little time I have left before I join that demographic. And that’s a sly allusion to a song lyric a few friends might recognize. And when I say little, I simply mean statistically speaking because I feel pretty good, and I can still dance. It’s just that unlike my 25th birthday where fifty years lay in the future, this future is likely a lot shorter.

Of course, it’s as indeterminate now as it was then and about the only thing within my control is how often I go to the doctor, and I go fairly often so I have a pretty good idea how my body might fail me when it does decide to give up. Meanwhile, I’m going to keep writing and singing and trying to be a decent human being, all things within my control as well. And, I’ve still got my plants and flowers and cool breezes in the morning, and the stars above at night and my kids and my friends and lots of sweet memories with more to come, I’m sure. And it all feels like love, just the fuel I need to keep this old light burning a little while longer.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale