Good enough for me.

In my younger days, I occasionally wondered. What it would be like. To become an octogenarian. Now I know. Here I am. At 83, and counting. It feels like an accomplishment. But to tell the truth. It’s a little scary. Because I know, statistically, that I’m getting awfully close to the end of my natural life. Of course, that doesn’t stop me. From imagining an afterlife. As a spirit. I’m not religious about it. Instead, it’s more a spiritual thing. With no connection to traditional and longstanding religion. In fact, I frown on organized religions. I want the freedom. To choose my own specially tailored beliefs. As a spiritual free-thinker. Some people think I’m an atheist. That’s not true. Instead, I think of god as I would have god. Not a god prescribed by others. I have no absolute proof that my god exists. It’s wholly based on faith. On what I want to believe. Nothing more. Nothing less. My god fits neatly into my needs. It’s a one-on-one relationship. I don’t worship my god. Better that we’re pals. Sort of like drinking buddies. Never to the point of getting drunk. We have cultivated a rare camaraderie. Thinking of each other as equals. Thus no need to worship. My god tells me there’s an afterlife. That it’ll be whatever I want it to be. I like that sort of assurance. I can’t rule out that god might be kidding. That he just wants to get me through my 80s. In fine mental and emotional fettle. That’s good enough for me. --Jim Broede