This morning I woke up with the arthritis in my hands really hurting, and it put me into pretty much of down mood. I'm 81 and some days I feel every one of those 81 years. Add to that my litany of aches, pains and medical issues and contemplating how my personal calendar seems to be primarily filled with doctor's visits, all added up to starting the day badly.
But after some cups of coffee I took my two dogs out for what is normally our hour long walk, when after only about 20 minutes the sky turned black and the rain came pouring down. Loud thunder, but no lightning and after 20 more minutes we made it my garage, all three of us soaked as if we had been thrown into a river. But we were well, and walking in a heavy rain is not all bad (wearing a decent hat I could keep the rain out of my eyes). Later I showered and got ready for the day, ate some lunch and then went out for an hour and a half on my little Royal Enfield motorcycle under now blue skies and a bright sun.
I got home and enjoyed a cold drink, sitting on the covered deck of our home with my wife, talking about old movies. That was when it struck me that I had better stop feeling sorry for myself since I have a pretty damn good life and have so much to be grateful for. My life isn't perfect, but whose life is? I have a lot of "the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak" moments, especially at night if you know what I mean, and I have yet to win the lottery. But I'm 81, still on the green side of the grass, still able to enjoy a lot of things, and maybe most importantly, still with the love of my life at 58 years and counting. I just have to remind myself of my good fortune more often and stop focusing on the little things that are not as I wish they were.
But after some cups of coffee I took my two dogs out for what is normally our hour long walk, when after only about 20 minutes the sky turned black and the rain came pouring down. Loud thunder, but no lightning and after 20 more minutes we made it my garage, all three of us soaked as if we had been thrown into a river. But we were well, and walking in a heavy rain is not all bad (wearing a decent hat I could keep the rain out of my eyes). Later I showered and got ready for the day, ate some lunch and then went out for an hour and a half on my little Royal Enfield motorcycle under now blue skies and a bright sun.
I got home and enjoyed a cold drink, sitting on the covered deck of our home with my wife, talking about old movies. That was when it struck me that I had better stop feeling sorry for myself since I have a pretty damn good life and have so much to be grateful for. My life isn't perfect, but whose life is? I have a lot of "the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak" moments, especially at night if you know what I mean, and I have yet to win the lottery. But I'm 81, still on the green side of the grass, still able to enjoy a lot of things, and maybe most importantly, still with the love of my life at 58 years and counting. I just have to remind myself of my good fortune more often and stop focusing on the little things that are not as I wish they were.