I think that
when you get older
death becomes a part of your life.
You feel it standing at your elbow.
You feel it looking over your shoulder.
You dream about it.
In my dream
my best friend Jackie
and I
are at a Mall
doing our Christmas shopping.
All the stores were boutiques
and we wanted department stores
where we could buy pretty tops
jackets
scarves
for our daughters
and daughters-in-law.
So we hopped on a commuter plane
to go to another Mall.
I took the window seat
which I normally don't like
but Jackie is more scared of flying
than me
so I let her sit
close to the aisle
so she could escape
if she needed to.
Suddenly the noisy drone
of the engines
stopped
and we were headed straight down.
I knew I was going to die.
As we plummeted through the treetops
I noticed the setting sun
glinting off green and silver leaves
and just below us
a field full of crabgrass
thistles
Creeping Charlie
and I knew that was where I would cease to exist
in the next millisecond.
Amazingly, I felt calm.
All my fears
struggles
aches and pains
left me
leaving nothing but the core
the essence
of myself.
We hit the earth with a terrible jolt
and I was released into a flood of light.
It woke me up
and for a minute
I didn't know if I was alive or dead.
But then Papi dog snorted in his sleep
I felt Wes's breath on my face
and saw the moon through the sheers
on my bedroom window.
I was glad that I was alive.
But I have changed
with age
in other ways
than just dreaming about death.
When I was younger
I was so passionate
about politics.
I griped and complained
about taxes
and even joined an American Taxpayers Group.
But today
I can't feel that passion
anymore.
I just sit here at my computer
and let it all flow past me
because I feel like
there's nothing I can do about anything
and trying so hard makes me nervous.
When I was younger
I thought I was special.
I thought that someday
I would blaze a trail
help millions of people
leave a mark on the world.
But now I know I am ordinary.
I won't blaze any trails
or leave my mark
because I don't want to put out the effort
it takes to be somebody special.
When I was younger
my personal relationships
with family friends coworkers
were so intense!
But now I don't get too involved.
I have come to realize that I don't have
all the right answers
and that, even if I did
nobody would listen to me.
They are all young
passionate
intense.
It's their time to strive
and worry
and try to change things
and I don't envy them a bit.
because
I like not having to wake up every morning
to the blast of the alarm
with a long list of worries
and chores
and "musts"
ahead of me.
I like it that I can stretch
and yawn
and check the weather out the window
and pad into the bathroom in my bare feet
and yawn again
and step into the shower
without any idea of what time it is.
Of course, I pay for this.
I pay with flab
and sags
and wrinkles
and my hair doesn't curl so easily
and this past summer I bought longer shorts
to hide my jiggly legs
and I don't like scoop-necked blouses anymore
because I have a turkey neck
and Death is coming ever closer
bringing with it frequent colds
and bronchitis
and crampy legs
blurry eyes
painful teeth
rheumatoid arthritis
tiredness
heart palpitations
bones that look like swiss cheese
no more cashews..
YIKES! I LOVE CASHEWS!
Oh well.
I guess what I'm trying to say
in this long and rambling tale
is that old age is another phase of living
but there are no mysteries about how it ends.
It ends in a hallelujah!
And a "thank you" to the Lord
that I had a life to live.
A Beckoning Light
Copyright Jonathon Earl Bowser,
used with permission
Music Playing: One Day At A Time
This page contains copyrighted material
©2001
GO TO CHAPTER 30
DIARY OF A PREACHER'S DAUGHTER
IS NOW IN PRINT.
CLICK ON THE BOOK IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO ORDER A COPY.
THANK YOU!
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