Monday, August 11, 2025

     My daughter arranges a meeting with a dozen folks in the afternoon to talk together. I am invited to sit in on the discussions. She rearranges the chairs and makes the living room welcoming. I stay out of the way. As the strangers talk, they transform into interesting and alive people.

     I am grateful for the support of my rollator walkers. I use them to get around the house and out on the deck as my knee and fatigue heal. Yes, I have three of them. I am ready to venture outside in the fog. Soon I will be back to using a cane only outside.

     I can’t find something smart and wise to say about being 85 years old.  Life is definitely different than ten years ago. I am so vulnerable to the vicissitudes of our times. I am afraid I will be put in a wheelbarrow and pushed away from danger, like the old people I see in war torn countries.

     I start reading another favorite author, Elly Griffiths. The novel is THE POSTSCRIPTS MURDERS. I rediscovered her when I was looking at book recommendations. I continue to watch the Late Show with Stephen Colbert to find the humor in today’s politics. And the NewsHour for good reporting.