I'm feeling sad today. Yesterday my Mom and I went out for a drive. She likes going out, driving around, looking at this and that. Usually we find old buildings, wildflowers, something I take photographs of. For her its a plant and a rock to bring back for the garden. Its a lot of time talking/ listening about our family, about houses and lives and children we see. Things I don't have, will never have now. So, it just makes me feel sad.

Mom wants me to write about everything on our adventures. I know she is feeling her age and wants our adventures and generally as much as can be, recorded. Mementos written about her life and her children and what she has done. I understand, I feel the same: older, less time, less potential, less healthy, a lot of less with things younger people will only begin to know about when they are old enough.

I try not to let myself feel regrets, or sad, or angry about myself, my life. But, its not easy. It doesn't change or fix anything so there is no point in feeling anything about it. So I put my time into other things, distractions but also real things that can take over the sadness and push it out of the way.

Last night I had a dream about Mom getting things together, with my help, she was going to sleep in the basement. She was leaning over her walker, as she does these days, and standing at the door to the basement, saying "Good Night" in that way she does now. I can't think of the right words to describe it, sad but not sad. Maybe a quiet happiness, something like that. The thing is, we have a finished basement but someone else is living there. Also, how would Mom possibly get down all those stairs? She couldn't. If she did - getting back up would be incredibly difficult for her and myself however I would figure out some way to get her back upstairs again. It was an odd thing to dream. But, dreams can be odd. Sometimes I have odd dreams I don't understand so much but later they come true and then they make more sense. So, this dream is bothering me. Of course Mom isn't going to live forever, none of us do. But, I'm not looking forward to her last day. For either of us. It would actually be the day after her last day, you don't know on the day of.

We don't drive as long or as far as we used to, even just a few years ago. Maybe the car accident is part of that. I think we both feel differently about the car itself now. (The accident was not our fault, we were sitting at a stop sign, waiting for traffic and deciding which way to turn).

I'm thirsty, thinking I will stop here and make coffee. Good Night, Good Evening, Good Morning, Good Day!

It takes bravery to get old. Young people won't know, or may scoff at the idea, until they get here too. If they get here, not everyone is fortunate enough to get old.

Getting old means dealing with your health in new and innovative ways. You take pills and don't really know what to expect from them. You go for tests and don't know what they're going to do to you. You trust people, professionals, who were in diapers and learning how to drink from a cup just a short time ago.

Getting old itself. Knowing things aren't what they used to be. Knowing other people, younger people, look at you and see an old woman. They don't see the person you are. Every old face is a resting bitch face.

You measure things differently, especially time. More of your decisions are about time than quality or quantity.

It takes bravery to look at yourself in a mirror and see yourself, still there. To find yourself, as they said long, long ago.

Is there something about getting older that I find myself looking for shortcuts. To make things simpler, less complicated and less trouble. Or, is it the loss of confidence, maybe bravado, from being older. I can remember being reckless (I've tended to caution, not a big dare devil all my life) enough to open my computer and fix it myself, things like that, in my younger years. Was it confidence or trust or that feeling of invulnerability that people say young people have. I don't know. These days, I look for shortcuts.

Maybe its the idea or feeling that I just don't have as much time. I'm 59 now. Since December. Turning 50 was a big deal for me. Now 60 is coming around the corner, assuming I get there, and I don't feel too bad about it. Still seems an odd surprise, even though I can count past 60 even as far as being mathematically correct. The surprise is finding myself this old. I wasn't born this way. I used to be much younger and I looked different too.

Younger people look at me and assume I've always looked this way. I can remember thinking the same, even though it isn't logical, about people when I was younger. Look at old photographs and you imagine everyone living in black and white with (mostly) dour expressions. It's hard to think of them as real people in colour. But, real life has always been in colour. Its only technology that couldn't show it that way, at the time. We rely too much on technology, far too much as time goes on.

Anyway, shortcuts, to stay on topic. The more time I spend looking for shortcuts the more I think about the time I've wasted looking for shortcuts that I usually end up rejecting and I could have been actually making real progress, without shortcuts. (There's a good run on sentence for you, and I'm not changing it).