… as the mediocre lyricist Lenny Kravitz once said.
I will be fifty tomorrow. My mother died when she was fifty six. If I were to follow suit, I have six years to make my mark or erase it. I have done both, simultaneously, for as long as I can remember.
I dreamt of a fresh start this year. It should have begun by now. But here I go again, feeling sorry for myself, wringing my hands and imagining the worst.
Has the worst already happen? Is it to come? Is it happening right now? Who can tell? In twenty years, if someone chooses to remember this time, if someone tells this story, they will be in a better position to judge. Perhaps the phone will ring tonight, and there will be good news. Perhaps we will overcome. Perhaps we will choose to have an adventure instead of believe we are doomed. People face and survive worse. Evey day.
So stop. Just stop.