poems

A Final Thought

Thinking about dying?

At 91 years of age, I am.

And interestingly, most of the dread of death has fallen away with the advance in age.

My kids are grown with families, unto grandchildren (theirs), so they are in their own worlds; concerned, of course, about their aging parents, but with their own higher priorities of concern. They are launched on life’s great venture, of which my departure is just another phase.

And there is much good luck and many blessings to brighten any backward glance down my 91 years. I have definitely come out on top (so far); good times by far outnumbering bad.

So, with a high degree of contentment, and virtually no regrets, my ultimate score in this game puts me right there on the winner’s podium when taps is sounded.

Or so I see it.

And for me, that is what counts.

Cheers . . . .

         #

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