Now that I’m at least semi-retired and 74+ years old, I only do what I choose to do. Of course, that’s always been the case, but now it seems even truer.
The only thing I absolutely must do is breathe. Everything else is a choice.
When I had a full-time job and managed other people, I often told them just that. Still, we all fill up our days with things we think we must do to survive; because it’s our responsibility; or because it’s expected of us.
So tomorrow, I’ll do two things that I’m looking forward to doing.
I’ll get a haircut.
Renee cuts my hair. She’s been doing it for more than 25 years. I’m pretty sure Renee was still a teenager when she first created an up-do for me before my daughter’s wedding. Since then, she’s had a daughter of her own, gone through a divorce, navigated a daughter’s adolescence, and her mother’s chemotherapy. I’ve retired, written three books, been blesssed with 12 grandchildren, and said goodbye to three parents between Loved-One and me.
I look forward to seeing Renee because she always makes me laugh. My favorite story is about her daughter, Sadie, learning to play the clarinet. Renee played the clarinet when she was in high school, too.
“Maybe I’ll get a clarinet and we can play together,” suggested Renee.
“Mom, you’re a grown woman.” Sadie rolled her eyes in obvious exasperation.
Since I still play my flute, I suggested a trio to really get Sadie’s blood pumping.
I’ll leave the salon feeling light and breezy and ready to take on the world.
I’ll get together with a friend to write postcards to legislators.
I’ve already distributed 40, and I have 60 more to write. We’ll write to swing-state legislators to remind them what most Americans care about. I’ll remind them that my tax dollars pay their salaries, even if they are representing another state. I’ll jog their memories about their responsibilities. I’ll prompt them to legislate. They are not there to be a spokesperson for a special interest group, but to make laws that protect us all.
When that’s done,
I’ll sit by my water garden and feed my fish.
Or maybe I’ll take a bike-ride, or eat leftover blueberry cobbler, or pick tomatoes, or work on my next book. It’s all up to me.
