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I read absolutely everything my eyes light upon.
Things I dislike, things I love and to be honest, on a cloudy day, sometimes advertising minutia.
Not everything makes me think, or agree or even disagree.
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However, this morning I read something that left me in wonder.
And yes,I confess.
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It was on Drudge where I often go after exhausting the NYT, The Massapequa Patch, NY Post and my daily meditation on New Pilgrim Path.
Today I read the average American now feels 10 years older than their age,
Wow!
I won’t even admit to where that would put me or many others who inhabit my world.
While I don’t like to doubt the accuracy of the statement, frankly, I must question it.
Admittedly, we live in a world of anxiety, both economically and politically.
Families are divided by distance and often suffer from unanticipated fractures in relationships.
Yes,I must and do agree that many of my contemporaries are sad as together we face the declining years put so poetically by Shakespeare.
But do I feel 10 years older?
No way.
I am amazed I have reached this age.
I am blessed that my body, mind and mostly faith have sustained me for reasons unknown.
I no longer have goals other than praying and striving never to be a burden on my loved ones.
I have accepted the heartbreak of a lost sheep and wish him and those who contributed to my extinction from their lives well. “They knew not what they did.”
Nor do I plan for tomorrows if I am to be granted any.
But sorry, Drudge.
I certainly don’t feel 10 years older, nor would I wish to.
“We know what we are, but know not what we may be.”
Hamlet, William Shakespeare