The Last Of My Life
By what I still think of as my relatively youngish age of seventy-four, I have outlived all of my immediate family, almost all of my friends, and now even the movie stars (are they still called movie stars?), those in the performance arts whose scintillating bodies and minds are their stock-in-trade, are reported to be dying at ages near or even less than mine. Yikes! Those stars have the desire and ability to take the very best care of themselves and yet there they go, so soon, off to Heaven, Nirvana, The Great Beyond.
Realistically, I do not know if I, humble little twinkle that I am, have twenty minutes left of life, or twenty years. This makes it a challenge to comport myself appropriately. Should I rest now that I have done most of what there has been for me to do; or should I get up and go, go, go some more?
Living The Last Of My Life
image and animation by Annmarie Throckmorton, copyright 2023
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