Good Morning Imago,
I always marvel at those citizens of life’s rich pageant who’ve just left the nest; seeking their own identities and if possible their own fortunes. Wide-eyed optimism agog with endless possibilities they march forward to replace the old grizzled veterans. Not only have I seen this generational phenomena, I’ve fallen victim to it for six (6) years now and they’ve beaten me down. Sadly I’m no longer capable of mustering that kind of exuberance let alone face the realities directly in front of me. While these realities are common knowledge and will shock no one, yet why do so many of us well into the ‘back nine’ and set out to pasture never see it coming? I’ve had conversations with both young and old(er) folks about this because I’m probably the worst offender in ignoring the inevitable. I always have and suspect it will never change.
When one is young and taking on a career, debt, marriage, and generally developing an image, the future represents an endless timeline. THERE WAS ALWAYS TIME to absorb a failure and rebound from it. I never doubted I would retire into a comfortable golden-age existence lacking nothing. And for awhile I was right on track. With events only ‘Gordon Gekko’ could appreciate my investment was stripped from me. Overnight everything was gone. Only this time the hourglass had trickled out much of the sand leaving me with a finite timeline. If you really want graphic evidence of this, make a visit to your neighborhood bar and ask who’s prepared and/or who’s filled with good intentions. Those drinking heavily letting hope overcome reason are the ones filled with excuses and good intentions! The others managed to navigate the system and prepare themselves for the pasture. Sometimes bad things happen through no fault of our own, but at some point in time one gives up saying God will provide.
I suppose I could still mitigate the impending doom, but somehow think if I sit on the bar stool long enough everything will be alright. Well I don’t think so do you? There’s very little separating me from my hovel and a return trip to the viaduct. Suffering from adult ODD it’s purely a matter of time isn’t it? One in my situation has to take inventory of what’s important and what’s naval lint. Am I going to lie here decimated by old age and become a burden to family? Or am I going to continue to buy Powerball tickets and pray for God’s intervention?
It truly is a dilemma.