One of the Lucky Ones

             Perhaps the lost moments are why some people cry about getting old, the waisted days spent with worthless trivialities instead of doing something meaningful and worthwhile with their time.
              Perhaps it's the sagging muscles and graying hair that hides the images of youth that we mourn.

              Perhaps it's the unfulfilled dreams that will never come to fruition.

             Perhaps it's the closer to death's dooor(sic)  that we have postponed pondering.

          There are plenty of things to think about, the years reviewed, the time evaluated. Could I have done better, could I have given more, could I have made more of myself. Has chance been more instrumental in who I became rather than my choosing.

         Looking in the mirror reveals the years that have elapsed and the eyes finally see today and what I have become. How many years are left, how much more can I do, what shall I think about doing.

        Pondering the unanswered, unanswerable, with no response, no feedback but the wrinkles, receding hairline and 'liver spots'.

        I never imagined I would look like this, you say to yourself, as the shock begins to wear off.
Ah, that it should come to this.

       No worries, the anxieties of the forties are gone or the teenage anxieties fully abated, all that is left is the slowing engine that takes longer to start and runs slower that we remember.
Fast and furious has flitted away, slowly I turned, step by step and I still am in the same room where I started.

        Slow motion strutting, doing everything I did before, I still wash my face in the morning and brush my teeth, it just takes longer, at least I still remember to wash my face and brush my teeth in the morning. I still remember when it is morning.

So I guess I am one of the lucky ones.