I turned 77 last week. To some, that’s old. To me, it’s getting there. It comes with many strange sensations, one of which is a feeling of satisfaction at having managed, sometimes conquered, the numerous vicissitudes of a long life.
Speaking of long, there is also a sense of the long view, of having seen it before. If it’s good, savor it, it’s ephemeral; if it’s bad, this too shall pass.
And people have come and gone through death, estrangement, or the inertia of our respective attempts to thrive or at least survive. Every one of them has been an inspiration, and I would not dismiss a single encounter from my memory’s relationship pantheon.
Then there’s grace, the stuff of good fortune even though we may not merit it. I’ve had enough for a hundred men.
And, of course, regrets. As the Chairman of the Board, Mr. Sinatra, said, “I’ve had a few, too few to mention.” But see “grace” (supra).
Yet, no room for smugness. Anything can happen. Stay poised for it; stay resilient, and no matter what, remember the grace.