Thank God You Are Alive

It's one of those type and delete kind of evenings.
Wanting to write and not knowing what.
Restless.
It's been a very hot day.
At one point I was trying to nap when
I heard thunder and rain and saw sunshine out the window.
What a weird combination.
One part of the sky black and pouring rain.
One part sunny.
I could get all philosophical about that.
But I won't.

Dearest one is away until tomorrow.
Youngest son is packing, readying himself for moving out.
Soon we will have a real empty nest.
Not sure how that will feel
but I do know I have only my life to live.
I've tried to live so many others' lives for them.

Today, as I was driving to town for my home group AA meeting,
I was overwhelmed with gratitude for being alive.
That seems to be hitting me more and more lately.
It feels like an actual wave coming over me
and I get all teary with gratitude.
I wonder if that increases as one ages?

I hear people complain about getting old
and I think to myself,
"My God, you're one of the lucky ones."
Does that mean everything about aging is fun?
Of course not.
Dearest one and I had a good laugh the other night when
I was screeching because my "arm joints hurt."
I kept saying it over and over again until they limbered up enough
for the pain to subside.
Then he said, "You mean your elbows."
Right. I'd forgotten in the midst of the pain
what the suckers were called.
Arm joints. New name for elbows.
Makes sense to me.

This week I learned of another young person's death.
He was only 28.
I knew him when he was a teen and then,
only in a acquaintance kind of way.
But it's just too young, you know?

Sometimes I worry I have the makings
of being one of those people
who walk the streets with a placard
that says something corny but true.
Something like the title of this post.
Underneath, in tiny print, it will read:
" and thank God for your arm joints."
That'll make them scratch their heads.