The Shitty thing about getting older
Gentle Readers,
There are many aspects about growing up/older that I am very much enjoying. Wisdom is a valuable thing. I'm happy about coming to terms with the world and my place in it. I like being able to better understand where other people are coming from. I especially enjoy waving my cane at those young wippersnappers alternating between telling them to get off my lawn and that their music sounds like cats fighting in a boiler factory.
The thing I don't like about getting older is that everyone and everything around me is also getting older and like all things that get older they wear down and break and sometimes just stop all together.
Last night I was on my way home from a fantastic fencing practice. I was pumping with life and vitality. I had done some drills and fenced very very well. As well, one of my fellow fencers offered me some much needed assistance and contacts for the salle which had me just thrilled and trying to will the city forward to spring.
While waiting at a stoplight my elation paused for a moment and was replaced by a slight wave of sadness. I wasn't sad about anything in particular, but it was there, brief and subtle. Then as quickly as it was there, it went away and I returned to my happy thoughts as I zoomed down the 417 towards home. I didn't think of it again until this morning.
This morning I found out that one of the writers on my friends list had died last night. It's not clear yet what the reason was, but it was the inevitable (albeit early) conclusion of her various health complications.
I started reading her journal years ago when another friend linked to her succinctly perfect review of The Phantom Menace: "Imagine the worst Christmas you ever had" and then never stopped.
Rest in peace Dances With Cars AKA Kari.
Thanks for the Christmas card.
I didn't know you, but I will miss you.
There are many aspects about growing up/older that I am very much enjoying. Wisdom is a valuable thing. I'm happy about coming to terms with the world and my place in it. I like being able to better understand where other people are coming from. I especially enjoy waving my cane at those young wippersnappers alternating between telling them to get off my lawn and that their music sounds like cats fighting in a boiler factory.
The thing I don't like about getting older is that everyone and everything around me is also getting older and like all things that get older they wear down and break and sometimes just stop all together.
Last night I was on my way home from a fantastic fencing practice. I was pumping with life and vitality. I had done some drills and fenced very very well. As well, one of my fellow fencers offered me some much needed assistance and contacts for the salle which had me just thrilled and trying to will the city forward to spring.
While waiting at a stoplight my elation paused for a moment and was replaced by a slight wave of sadness. I wasn't sad about anything in particular, but it was there, brief and subtle. Then as quickly as it was there, it went away and I returned to my happy thoughts as I zoomed down the 417 towards home. I didn't think of it again until this morning.
This morning I found out that one of the writers on my friends list had died last night. It's not clear yet what the reason was, but it was the inevitable (albeit early) conclusion of her various health complications.
I started reading her journal years ago when another friend linked to her succinctly perfect review of The Phantom Menace: "Imagine the worst Christmas you ever had" and then never stopped.
Rest in peace Dances With Cars AKA Kari.
Thanks for the Christmas card.
I didn't know you, but I will miss you.