When I wasn’t paying attention, I grew up. Not just the done with school, moved out of the house part but the gray hair and the slightly achy joints, the need for bi-focals, the forgetting how to knit a particular stitch. Last night I pretended I hadn’t grown up. I pursuaded the family to pile into the car at nearly 11 at night and we drove off into the darkness in hopes of seeing the Aurora Borealis. We drove a considerable distance –nearly 100 miles roundtrip — but we didn’t find the Aurora, only stars and satellites, the Milky Way and the darkness. For a brief moment I felt all the promise and possibilities again. I didn’t get to bed until 2:30 but that was okay. When I woke up this morning I felt enthusiastic and hopeful again.
Its scary to contemplate the end that is near. Not near in the immediate sense but near in that its closer than the start of things. I can understand why people cling to the idea of god and heaven and an after life—the idea that this is it is so huge and daunting and downright frightening. This is It and yet, what the heck have I done? I have debts, a job I feel meh about, not enough free time, not enough money to retire, no real idea of what I would do if I did retire.