Monday, November 4, 2013

Fog City

Mortality. Something you never think of in the throes of youth. But that's what we have birthdays for. When you're young and trying to make heads or tails of things, the future seems endless, and setbacks and possibilities are daily occurrences. If your lucky, you'll find a tolerable job, or even better, do what you like and get paid for it. Maybe even find someone and create a family and a world. Again your consciousness is constantly in the now. Time. Age. One day the chaos, the duty, have all moved outward from your world, the world you created, the notions, the ideas your identity is built on. Well I shared this dilemma recently with my little brother, an old reference to a time when he was smaller than me. Both our families are grown. It was his 59th birthday. I'm 65. We sat talking over lunch, about being our grand parents age, yet still seeing the world through youthful eyes. We realized the end was much nearer than we cared to admit, and the prospect of new journeys, were appropriately pipe dreams. Hope was finding contentment in no regrets. And we laughed. If there was one bonding ingredient in our relationship, it was the ability to laugh, loud and heartily at life and it's paradoxes. We will forge on, flaws and misgivings, simply because people are depending on our laughs!


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