Sometimes I catch myself feeling self-pity for my situation. It isn’t pretty and it fortunately doesn’t happen too often. But when I get tired it sometimes sneaks up on me. Thoughts of what I had once believed retirement would be – time on my hands, freedom to pursue new pass-times and the luxury to travel – fill my head.
Eventually, I give my head a shake. “Really?” I ask myself. “You have the privilege of watching your grandchild grow and develop into an amazing person, and this is the fuel for a pity-party?”
Then I think about the women who are in a cruel battle with cancer. About women who have lost their mates or who are nursing them through a debilitating illness. About women who are trying to rebuild a life after their spouse has decided they are done with the relationship after 25 or thirty years together. About women who have lost a child.
And I thank all the forces of goodness in the universe for making me so very lucky. Oh yeah, I have it good.