Let me get two things out of the way:
- Getting older is way better than the alternative.
- I’m luckier than most, I know. I have a fabulous, smart, loving wife. I have three great daughters who gave me six beautiful grandchildren one of whom gave me, so far, one adorable great-granddaughter.
Ok, moving along.
I had a good career with jobs that were fun, challenging and rewarding. I retired about eight years ago and adapted to retired life quite quickly. And, I’m very good at being retired; I think I found my calling!
I live in a fabulous location. I’m having a good life. I have issues all old(er) folks have: the hearing aid arrives next week; the cataracts were done a couple years ago; I had a stroke nearly 20 years ago that, thankfully, left few long-term issues.
I have more doctors than I have shoes. And my annual visits to doctors now take about a month to fit in rather than the one-and-done annual physical of years ago.
In short, lots more people have a lot more to complain about than I do.
I do have a few complaints, but they’re really not about me:
- I wish our politics weren’t so divided and painful to watch
- I wish there were more of us who answer policy issues with “let’s talk about it” than those who respond with immovable “yesses” or “no’s”
- I wish kids weren’t brutally killed in their classrooms or anywhere for that matter
- I wish people were not brutally killed while they were praying or getting groceries or, again, anywhere for that matter
- I wish an 11-year-old girl didn’t have to smear herself with her best friend’s blood to survive a mass shooting