Golden Years?

Most days are the same. The morning dreams come in rapid succession and often, but the waking result is the same…sore back, cracking bones, and slow movements through the haze. Coffee is the first refuge of daylight.

Looking back through the past is a journey of pain, triumph, and joy. But in these later years the losses cast a shadow that make the joys of forgotten days seem like miniscule victories; like a bitter pill that must be taken every morning with a little milk.

The decision to wake up each day and still feel that the world will change because of your contributions is the smoke and mirrors that keep us moving forward. The ability to put on a tie, produce a clean-shaven face, and tackle a world dominated by youth is an act of shear bravery.

As I watch the young, I view them with pity sometimes. Many of their hardships and sorrows are ahead of them…saying goodbye to loved ones, a failure at work, financial hardships that take a piece of joy out of their future hopes and dreams. Many have never faced hardship, but it is coming for them all.

Old men sit on porches and pontificate because they've earned the right to do so. Yet, I do not envy them. All they can talk about is what came before them and how things have changed…mostly for the worst. They are watchers of the world; their days of being movers and shakers have come and gone.

Then I see those that wake up with the same creaky bones. Who continue to serve each day in their 70s, 80s, and even longer. Those unique souls should not be the exception but the rule. I want to be like them, at least in spirit. As the years approach, I do not want to see it as the beginning of the end, but a continuing chapter of difference-making.

Yet, these achievements may look quite different in the glimmering and fading twilight. They might include sharing the stories of overcoming great disappointment and sorrow, leading the way for the next generation by handing off the experiences that were both a blessing and a curse to our humanity.

There is much work left to do. I will not board the ship that sails blindly into the sunset. Not yet.

The best may still be yet to come.