Happy Birthday to me. Not much planned for today. I just can't believe I'm 55 years old. I just never imagined what life would be at that rather advanced age. I spent my years 30-50 living the life of someone 10 years younger than myself. Having been so sick for so long The age caught up and then passed the difference in how old I was and how old I felt.
This week marked the four year anniversary of the discovery of my brain cancer. Four years is a long time to be ill. This morning I was looking for something in my medicine cabinet and figure there are about 50 bottles of various concoctions and elixirs. Most of which I have no idea of their function.
Stranger still is the age regression I have been experiencing. I live in the town where I grew up (been here on and off for 50 years), went to school, and do the things I did back then. Reading long novels, listening to music from that era, and playing guitar, seem to inspire the same feeling and thoughts I had a the age of 16. I walk the same roads I did, smelling the same flowering plants, I pass my old elementary school nearly every day. I feel like I have entered a time machine taking me back to my childhood and leaving me there.
Because I have been unable to do the things I used to, for fun or work, I've made my world smaller and smaller to avoid having to meet obligations from nearly any quarter. I've found that "dropping out" has created an unintended consequence. I have been forgotten. My phone can go without ringing all day I may not speak to anyone for hours and hours.
I can complain but fact is, I'm still alive and I know the less I want the more I have. Time for Russell's walk.
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