Time to grow old. Gracefully.

In my youth, I occasionally thought about what it would be like to be old. To be in my 70s, for instance. Well, I’m there now. And it’s nothing like I imagined. That I’d worry about having little time left. That I’d be decrepit. In poor heath.  Yes, generally miserable. But it’s nothing like that. Though it may be some day. For one thing, I don’t feel old. And I don’t worry about tomorrow. Because I’ve learned to live one day at a time. And to savor  precious moments. Virtually every day.  When my dear wife Jeanne died of Alzheimer’s six years ago, I grieved. For a while.  But I let things happen. Let life flow naturally. And lo and behold, here I am. Living with the second true love of my lifetime. A wonderful Italian. Having evolved into a romantic idealist, a spiritual free-thinker, a political liberal, a lover, a dreamer. Took time. And maybe that’s the nicest thing of all. A true blessing. Time to grow old. Gracefully. –Jim Broede