In just a few days I will celebrate my 66th birthday. Three score and six. I have lived one hell of a life. I was gifted an amazing set of parents who set me up for success by loving me and each other. I’ve been lucky enough to have a large, loud and supportive family. When it was time to marry, I won the lottery. I have for the most part enjoyed my work and it has been financially rewarding. But, let’s be honest, I’m far closer to the end than I am to the beginning. According to the actuarial tables I’ve got 18-19 years left. This doesn’t frighten me. It causes me no great angst. If I get some extra years, great. If 18-19 ends up being optimistic, that’s ok. A pun instantly comes to mind…I’ll just have to live with it. It seems to me that the more important question isn’t how much time I have left but rather what I will do with that time. I have big plans. Next week Pam and I will start some long-delayed home improvement projects. The first week of May my first novel gets published. Pam and I will celebrate 40 years together. The third week of June we will leave for Maine.
But first, I will attend a funeral of a great and good woman who was a blessing to many.
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