Day 276... Sadness (Part 1)

Today I am having a hard time writing and I really don't know why.  There is no end to the subjects I am thinking about expressing from the point of view of a near 60 year old.  I was going to go on about drugs (vs. medication) and my experiences with them (coming from the 1960's and 1970's)... but instead I will write about what I am having a difficult time with today.  So, anyone reading this can trash the idea that these essays will be the happy and delightful rationalizations, conclusions and collected wisdom of a lady getting old.  No - today I am sad - so here I will deal (or try to) with it or some bits of it.

I AM sad today.  I'm not sad everyday.  But today there is this sort of whispering and wistful ribbon of sadness gently floating around me.  And I don't know why.  Nothing has happened today or recently to bring this on.  It is colder outside but that can't be it although I like true winters less and less as time goes on.  My back is bothering me a bit.  I fear this physical challenge will now never quite completely go away.  But thats not it.

Without getting too personal (this is a more public journal than a private diary) I have to say there is some melancholy that comes along with aging.  And it is not about the things I always thought I might be sad about.  Like death.  I'm not sad about that.  I don't think I am afraid of it either.  I miss people in my life I've lost and recently had quite a scare with my husband suddenly becoming so ill (recovering nicely now thank you).  Of course I worry about all that anyone in my place would:  health, money, children.  I have gotten over the mourning period I was surprised to experience the first year (and probably the second) my daughter was off and so far away at college.  And there are things in my past that I wished then would have worked out differently like my first marriage.  I really was in love with my then husband and really wanted it to work.  Or, finishing college would have given me the much needed confidence I was bereft of for so many years.  But with time and experience I've been able reconcile my feelings about such as those

However, as I continue on this journal's  journey I find myself running into little revelations - some enlightening, some comforting and now I find some a bit saddening.  Oh and I hate to have to admit that.  I'd love for my life to be filled with lessons rather than regrets.  But that isn't real life is it?  It seems musing about my getting older brings me at least to some bittersweet memories I've boxed up and stowed away decades ago.

So on to the unpacking...