Bifocular, menopausal, and now introspective; a truly evil combination and not as yet a totally pleasant place to be. But it spurs thoughts on life and living, albeit driven by impending…well, lack of life and living. Failing eyesight that prevents me from seeing clearly beyond my fingertips forces closer inspection of what’s within that range. Gradual blurring of the world beyond is magically crystal clear with lenses that offer a new view of that which was forgotten. Hot flashes, if you can close your eyes and enjoy them, are reminiscent of youthful passion that’s been tempered by time as well. A tolerance–not apathy–of difference of opinion, and yet without the indecision and reluctance to opine.
“Do not go gently into that good night, Rage, rage against the dying of the light…” Why? Just use the time wisely while the light still allows one to see.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology