Fortunate old me.

The day may be coming. When I quit living as I please. That’s the nature of aging. One slows down. Physically. Mentally. I used to run 7-minute miles. Now I walk 15-minute miles. I used to write stories. On short deadlines. Now I take my time. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. Yet.  I accept my limitations. And make the most of it. But what if some day I can’t function up to my self-imposed standards? That could be troublesome. I’m sounding like an 82-year-old man.  Wishing he never had to grow old. But then, that’s better than the alternative -- dying before my time. Fortunately, I’m not worrying about tomorrow. Because I’m busy relishing today. --Jim Broede