Green bananas anymore

 

Like many older people in training, I periodically spend time in a stuck zone about various matters, such as how much time there is remaining in my life here on planet earth.  I won’t say that I’m obsessed or possessed about this, but I do ponder it more now than I did twenty, thirty or forty years ago.  I believe most people in my age zone do.

One day when getting out of my car in the grocery store parking lot, I noticed an older person gimping along stiff legged with his rear end slightly sticking out.  He was sporting a forward lean in his posture while inching along, ever so slowly, towards the grocery store entrance.  “Another old turd”, I thought to myself while I, too, gimped along in the same direction.  Then, in a moment of rigorous honesty, I self-confessed that, like this person whom I had just passed judgement on moments earlier, I am also another older turd. 

These visual moments give me opportunities to be honest about who I really am and that my clock is getting closer to midnight, also known as the end of my life.  Only God knows how close to midnight I really am.  It may only be 10:00 pm on my aging clock so I’ve got some time to go.  Fate, however, may have a different plan and before I know, my aging clock can quickly advance to, say, ten minutes before midnight.

Spending time yesterday with my four little grandsons and being the numbers guy I am, I intuitively calculated how old I would be when each of them turns age 18.  The answers to my math quiz ranged from 77 years to 81 years.  It’s possible that I may still be living then but, again, only God knows.

I then pondered whether I would ever get to know my great grandchildren.  I could go on and on with this future wondering and suppose there’s nothing wrong spending time doing this.  A retired person has got to have something to do and something to ponder.

Like, when will my day come when I won’t buy green bananas anymore.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum