Yes, we made it back, and yes, coming into the yellow California light and 68 degrees and the sun setting big and orange over the water as we watched along Paseo del Mar -- it's all a huge relief. I am emotional in these comings and goings, especially this one, which is the first return since my recent illnesses, and I see as one big agenda a reprogramming of my expectations -- this is a benign and lovely place, and this time I will not be sick.
Had the geezer dinner (the special that ends at 6 p.m.) at Chicago Ribs and talked about giving up dreams. I know that sounds gloomy indeed, but it's a reality of my age, a new element to how I look at life. How will the rest of my life be? What do I want to do? What do I have to do? This is the first year that my denial about aging cracked a little, when a certain weariness and impatience with professional commitments requiring the adrenalin of ambition kicked in. We held hands across the table and reaffirmed our love. Whoever we are, looking at each other -- that's who we love. There is liberation in these gentle evolutions.
And now back in time to snuggle into the loveseat with my favorite blanket in the San Pedro living room, Ted in his LazYBoy, to watch Lehrer News Hour and peacefully contemplate the quiet pleasures of the next 10 days. Maybe it was the reassuring sunset on a familiar stretch of Paseo del Mar that did it -- I feel a little salute, a hug from the world. Reason for hope is not absurd. There is reason to hope.
Not a hero
4 years ago