Dimmer Switch

As the years pile on I have found that it has become increasingly difficult to deal with the lights around me which are beginning to dim. The ones which have gone out, it’s hard, but the world keeps spinning and we go on. It's the fading vibrancy in friends, family and ourselves which I find so heartbreaking. 

You get to a time in your life when you appreciate the miracle that we are, and then we become shadows of our former selves. I often wonder ‘what about us’. I try to be more in-tune with the good times now because I know that one of these days it will be my turn or my husbands. 

Regarding friends and family, it seems as if I am surrounded by medical calamity. Every time I hear about another issue, an illness or operation I cringe, and wonder again, what about us. My husband and I are in pretty good shape (taping on wood as I write this) so I am thankful for every-single-day. 

For some time now I have been trying to come up with a non-preachy, less-bitchy way of writing about how grateful young folks should feel for being young, how they should appreciate the gift of time they perceive as their future. I want to express how wonderful it is to see a longer path in front than behind. I want to find the perfect words to tell them how lucky they are to be young.

My daughters have lost two young friends recently, one to a horrifically tragic act and another to a long illness. They know there are no guarantees of time, but do they, should they, think about the end of life while in the midst of life? Maybe we’re just supposed to live our lives, with bright lights, and not think about the dimmer switch. Because they have lost two of their own, they know, right along with the rest of us, life is a crap-shoot and  it’s all smoke and mirrors. None of us is guaranteed tomorrow, another hour or one more minute.

For Donna E.
If we think about life as a marathon and first focus on the aches and pains of the body, during and even after the race, we wouldn’t even start to run the race. Maybe we should simply focus on putting one foot in front of the other until the last hill and final sprint, or limp, to the finish line.

Wisdom tells me that life is about the race, not the finish. Life tells me that the dimmer the light, the least likely I am to see where the road ends. I'm not sure if that's good or bad all I know is that if I can't see my feet I'll fall flat on my ass.

What does wisdom tell you?