Last Third

Now that I’m in my 70’s, I find myself thinking about being gone, not being here anymore, all that I’ll miss.  Despite that fact that my doc has now told me at my last two yearly physical exams that the likelihood of my living into my 90’s is great, since I’ve had no serious illnesses.  What will happen to my partner if I predecease him; will my daughters lead happy lives as they age, retain their marriages, have few or no problems with their children; will my friends remain largely healthy  and will they live longer than I?  This is kind of ridiculous.  I tell myself to focus on what is working in my life and there is much:  I have a very loving, caring, touchy-feely primary relationship; my daughters both like me and even urge me to visit so they can spend time with me; my friends are varied, both old and new, and they seem to appreciate much about me; my home is surrounded by beauty, everywhere I look from every window; I live a block from Puget Sound and overlook the Sound and Whidbey Island; I am healthy, very healthy; I dance with friends, doing Nia twice a week; I walk in the woods, and have many paths I can follow; I am still an active writer; and I have finished a 1300 page novel, which I’m separating into two books and rereading, liking it quite a lot as I edit.  Not a brag, but certainly a delightful surprise.  Hmmm.  This works.  I feel better, just by writing this.  Clearly the way to deal with the awareness of being in the last third of life:  listing all the things I’m grateful for. Now I just need to remember to create this list anew every single morning.  Remembering.  Hah!