I had a thought only a few minutes ago, yet now I’m trying to recall what I was thinking about. I believe I was thinking about the time that we healed ourselves. I had all kinds of accidents but few colds and no illness. I bounced back from accidents so quickly that I never had to quit any activity. That is until Lenette insisted that I quit and give my toys away. I was in my eighties.
Apparently, healing is for the young, or at least the young at heart. There is no healing any further. We are slowly but surely deteriorating. I see it, feel it, and know it. The sands are running out, which is how it should be.
So, as I sat in the sunshine, I thought about this and accepted it readily. It is the way it ought to be. We are each a book with a beginning and an end, hopefully with many exciting ups and downs on its many pages. Lenette and I lived this way and handled every up and every down as honestly and courageously as possible.
I often use the word “serendipitous” because I believe this is how we live. Throughout our lives, unexpected happenings with strange people often played huge and dramatic roles.
I have told the stories probably a few times. We wonder at the many incidents that played enormous parts in our lives. And, as I have written, these were not only long-term events. Often, new chapters were written in mere minutes.
I am sure we are not unique in how “things” took place and played out. What we are is independent. We choose our way forward with its many responsibilities. It is what we wanted and fulfilled.