Commentary By T. W. Bill Neville
With my "mate" of over 65 years gone to her reward in Heaven, I find myself in a stage of metamorphosing that I choose to call RENAISSANCE--bordering on "RUINAISSANCE?!" After much internal commiseration, and external, consternation, maybe I should be brutally honest, with myself, and admit that my life is really morphing into a "rerun" of the "Walton Family" TV sitcom, on steroids.
For example, I keep telling myself that I don't need to write that down, I'll remember it. Like, just last week I joined the procrastination group, and, now, we, as a group, can't decide on a meeting place, or date. Last week while I was doing laundry, I had this thought about how great it would be to put ourselves in the dryer and come out wrinkle free and several sizes smaller.
I've decided I don't need anger management classes. I just need to avoid people and situations that irritate me. Now that I'm alone, I'm realizing that "old age" is coming a really bad time in my life. I've always prided myself on having people skills, but there are so many idiots out there today, that I can't avoid them all, but that even if duct tape can't shut them up, it can help "muffle" the sounds.
If my wife were still here she would be "rolling" her eyes and "encouraging" me to "act" my age. Kinda like giving up on being able to touch my toes anymore by saying "If God had wanted us to be able to do it, he would have put our toes on our knees." She never bought into my idea that's OK to talk to yourself, since I believe that it's nice to be able,sometimes, to reach an agreement and not have to justify the outcome.
Come to think of it, that's exactly what she would probably have said about this article. God love her for being the "power" beneath my "wings", and the best "critic" and "adviser", anyone could ever have in one lifetime.