At those senior lunches, church suppers, midmorning diner confabs, I hear retirees chatting about the trajectory of their lives, deepening the smile lines they already have. Hindsight logic seems half the fun. Who would have guessed youd end up selling clothes, or as a custom carpenter or court clerk? Theres no exaggerating the role patience may play in living well, or wearing a coat of the proverbial many colorsbold caution and humorous solemnity. Youve talked to children and to the military, yet sometimes held your tongue, except about McCarthyism and Guantanamo. Balderdash still wins votes for popinjays, but the lag period when an environmental rescue effort, for example, can be mounted has shrunk alarmingly, voiding the chances for a new president to put the glaciers and rain forests back together or reduce sea flooding, restore the vanished galaxies of species. We prefer a president who mirrors usa lowbrow braggart when were in that mood, or a gallant and humane man for World War II and the Marshall Plan. Our frame of mind does need repair, but thats been true for a thousand years.
Pudgy, we sit in the senior center occasionally recounting the deaths
of our spouses, round robin, for solace. How one was trying to lift his legs off the bed when the embolism took himor a womans heart failure, starting on the toilet, that crumpled her at the sinkand my mother, a long-term stroke victim trying to speak, whose eyes seemed to beg for death, after she could no longer swallow without choking. But was she possibly asking something else?she wasnt able to write. Agewise, we may all be in the same boat, and yet a healthy sprinkling of us have wrinkle lines denoting repose: not chewing over grievances or kicking ass, even our own. Instead, we enjoyed a good run and now could be an advertisement for lifes beneficence, if the word doesnt mean you cant also die of thirst in the desert. You might, but we exerted ourselves not to.
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