Laughing. At weird thoughts.

My care-giving days are behind me. That’s the way I like it. I adjusted. And became a good care-giver. Eventually. That’s a good thing. Having learned to enjoy the experience. And appreciating being the care-giver. Rather than the recipient. In my ideal world. I’ll never need care. From others. I’ll be able to care for myself. Yes, there’s a practical advantage in a quick and sudden death. No lingering. Here one minute. Gone the next. I could adjust to being a care-giver again. If I had to. Carrying out an act of love. That’s the relative easy role. If I were the one that needed care. That would be difficult. Almost intolerable. Having to rely on another. The loss of independence. Anyway, I don’t fret about it. Because I still have control over my life. No sense in worrying about the future. Better to savor today. Getting the most out of life. By laughing. At my weird thoughts. --Jim Broede