What the future holds is a mystery that we all share.

I don’t actively think about my age until my body reminds me with a twinge or I’m unable to recall a word as instantly as I used to. I think the word loss bothers me more than physical changes. Not remembering the name of a person, place or plant is really annoying, especially when that name used to be a familiar one. And then I wonder if that’s the first step to dementia. Why wouldn’t I question whether my brain is turning to mush?

Time became more flexible when I retired from my last day job on my 77th birthday. Physically I’m in better condition than I was for many years with my weight more in control. Gardening and walking keep me fairly active but there’s always room for improvement. Making art comes and goes in spurts of intensity but my interest is always there.

Sometimes when I think about my mother dying one week away from her 100th birthday, I wonder if I’ll reach that milestone and if I would even want to be that age. The mystery of when and how I will die crosses my mind more frequently than it did when I was younger. I’m very fortunate to have shared life with my partner/wife happily for nearly 40 years and that she is substantially younger than I am. What the future holds is the mystery that we all share.