Autumn Years

Have you ever observed all those aggregations of un-dissolved embodiments of organic wrinkled creepy creatures (us old farts), flex and putter around acting as though we are up to something important, and praying like hell that no one notices we don’t know what we are doing? We are usually those bi-podals who have labored, drudged, sweat, strained, stretched, struggled, and merited some serious tranquility in our lives.

However, those of us crammed intro that pigeonhole, and those of the younger persuasion, don’t normally recognize that we still need to feel wanted and essential to our families in one way or another. Almost every one of us folks in the “prime” persuasion, if not physically capable, are full of wisdom, jokes, stories, history, ideas, shortcuts, and lots of knowledge in numerous fields of endeavors. We “oldsters” may be able to offer a whole new outlook on life, a new way to solve a problem, or where to go to finds the answers, or even a less costly way ....or just where to go

If you happen to be one off those youthful apods, I do not wish to be the bearer of disturbing news who is going to burst your bubble of existing forever, but you may want to reflect on the following: If you’re 20 years young, and live to be 60, one-third of your life is gone, over, void, and missing in action – never to return! If you’re 30, it’s already half over! And if you really desire to be smacked upside the head by reality, consider that you’ll sleep about one-third of that away.

If that bit of jargon jounced your judgment of your future plans, you’re quite lucky, for the autumn years will dawn in your life when some beautiful young lady you’re (if you are a male) trying to impress, suddenly shoves your ego right down the waste tube with something akin to “Wow; you’re sure in good shape-for your age!” At that point, we may wish to take a much closer look at that individual in the mirror of reality – and pray it’s not full-length! -

“The distinction between past, present, and future is only an illusion, however persistent” (Albert Einstein). The future of our air-inhaling anatomies is definitely not an illusion – it’s going to happen, for that is it’s forever persistent destiny.

However, as we are fortunate to live our lives in the intellectual faculties of our consciousness, we have the opportunity to stroll into our autumn years gracefully. If at all possible, remember only the precious and beautiful memories, accumulate many new ones, and allow the others to just flow through our minds as wisps of clouds in a fog. As long as we keep striving persistently, we cannot fail!

Sometime in the very distant future, someone will “suit me up”, place my happy self and the creepy things inside me into a bone box, let everyone take a final look, tell everyone what a sweet, holy, innocent, pure, naive, and all around nice guy I was, throw my leftovers into a chasm in the ground somewhere in a field full of other cadavers, where horde’s of other creepy things will dine on me.

All walking, talking, thinking, non-thinking, revolutionized, plasma-filled, animated biological substances (us again), will ultimately have to come to terms with our human mortality. Even though my calculated future schemes also include living forever, my decision to “cover all the bases”, was, in the long run, more than likely a wise one.

Determining an epitaph for my tombstone was neither effortless nor comfortable...in fact, it was quite an elaborate, serious, and time-consuming undertaking – I did not wish to be flippant about it! It had to be short, to the point, thoughtful, enlightening, profound, fulfilling, and very descriptive of my life’s momentous quest. Therefore, after studying tomes of informative materials at the library, and scrutinizing a large dictionary and my immense thesaurus from front to back, I visited a local university and consulted with those of brilliant minds. Then I hauled my happy bunnies about 100 miles into the dense forests of the countryside, and spent several weeks of meditation remunerating on my mortal breath of existence. At last, being completely exhausted, but a better man for the experience, I finally settled on the very impressive question: “What the hell was that all about?”

We are born, we play, we dance, we are educated, we sing, we get married, we procreate, we work, some of us think, and we age. Being copycats, and not knowing any better, the younger generations go through the same experience – and so it goes! Ultimately, professor “time” says it’s time to go – some refer to it as death! Personally, I prefer to refer to it as motivating through an ebony subway, emerging in another new dimension, boarding my new-fangled starship christened “Imaginative Curiosity”, and figuring out what the hell this new space is all about – so I can tell all my new friends and neighbors “Yep, I’m doing that.”

Conceding that it’s never easy to leave loved-ones behind, for that’s the way it is in this universe, doesn’t imply we must give credence to the fabricated myth of an infernal inferno...that’s a lot of elephant excretion! If there exists an “all-loving” god, then our “god-given” logic states that he/she is incapable of creating a hell – only various levels of heaven.

Plus, as with everything else, there is an indisputable positive to confronting any fears we may experience with leaving this world – it’s a scientific fact, and is referred to as “time dilation”. If you wish a complete descriptive description, please visit your local free library, and enjoy a book on “time”.... it’s well worth the time! For our purpose here, it basically means everyone’s time is distinct. It’s very conceivable that “time” at the other end of the “tunnel” is slower than ours, and therefore, we will not only be re-introduced to those whom have gone before us, but may be quite startled to see those we left behind in a few days or weeks of our new “time”. Naturally, none of us can quarantee that’s how it operates, but it’s how I’m going to evermore perceive it

LEAVE I SOFTLY

Smite death naught desolation, mine immortal soul ignores it’s ever beckoning
It’s passage fear I not, rather upon it’s mighty ocean doest I crave it’s reckoning
For nay, tis not death, tis new life, freedom of soul’s restrictions, thus so it ever be

Mortal expectations abliss, neo dimensions to embrace external, eternal elations asea

Epitomes of travel dimensional, ages of past exploring, resultatum of mankind’s future

Mine eternal soul the wanderer, mind perpetual ever, seeking mine spirit’s suture

Keen discernment of knowledge, unrestrained deliverance of man’s foolish riddles

Mine essence soaring freely, harkening ever to heaven’s sonnet of angelic fiddles

Expeditious repetition of eras, swiftly draws nigh mine earthly demise expected

Kinship ceased from ages ere, loved ones existing, from soon I pass, mine heart shredded

Yet sorrow thee gently, thy heart arise, and thy tears form slowly as the morning dew

Leave I softly, my unwavering love with thee, at least for now, til we meet anew.

( J) MARSHALL WADE