Written in 2016
I woke up with ghosts in my head. Friends from the past. Family who are gone.
It made me look at the clock.
If I am lucky, I am exactly halfway through my life.
My son thinks I will make it to a hundred. I think ninety-four is enough.
The first half was a scramble. There are holes in my memory where whole years should be. It feels like a waste, but I cannot get them back.
I have been looking for a grand plan for the second half. I thought I needed a map.
I don't.
The list is short now.
Fix this body. Make it last.
Raise the boy to be a good man.
Be the person I actually like.
Everything else is noise.
I am done with the long view. It is too heavy to carry.
I am scaling down. I can manage twenty-four hours. I can manage today.
I want to see paintings. I want to stand in wild places. I want to collect moments, not things.
The flu is lifting.
The path is clear.
Just one day.