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I am and I did just recently become 70 years old. I never, ever dreamed I would live this long. There are many of my friends that have passed on to …well…wherever. But I have many of my known lifetime acquaintances still hanging on. My parents are both into their 90’s and health for them is poor. So that basically means I might have another 15 years of fair health and then …lookout…85, 90…yikes. Here we are old timers, staring down the barrel of the biggest gun to point in our direction. Bad hips, knees and other problems swept under the carpet.

Mom always said to me…” If I get sick or die, just throw me over the back fence and feed the coyotes and buzzards.” We had great fun my mother and I but now it is time to pay the piper. When we put her in the nursing home, she begged me to kill her. That was a tough day. I spent a lot of time in hospitals and nursing homes in the last 12 years. Now I am healthy enough to stay home. Of course now that the wife is retired that makes a big difference. Mom and I were actually in the same nursing home for awhile. That was interesting. I don’t go and see mom like I should and it is hard to understand the reasons why. I think it is because of all the hospital stays and surgeries I had in the last eleven years. through those years I had ten major surgeries and became addicted to oxycodone, oxycontin and muscle relaxers. Nearly died a few times along my journey. A bleak time in my life for sure. These days though I have kicked the bad habit of taking Oxy drugs daily…or at all. Today I am totally drug free and enjoying writing my stories and going camping and fishing with my wife and dog. Life is fairly good and I’ve even had a few things published. I would love to have more notoriety but if that is meant to be, well I guess it will. So, all in all I guess 70 isn’t so bad. I can look forward to waking up and enjoying everyday no matter what the weather brings. I am watching it rain now and thinking about how this rain will help my mother’s peony plants pop out of the ground soon. I wish I had some of the Iris and Tulips that used to grow here, but they have all died out. I sorely miss the large Redbud tree that fell over in the front yard last year. It was taken out by a spring storm. It did make good firewood though. Memories of most of my life are centered around this house and yard as it was built by my dad’s own hands and mom’s hard work. I’ve heard rumors that Daniel Boone lived nearby, long ago in the past. I have often wondered what he would think of his family farm now with all of the traffic and intrusion of city life. Where did the bison and bobcats go? Wolves and coyotes? Not a chance. I sit on my back porch and watch the tremendous amount of traffic zoom past my house every day. Lordy, what a racket.

Life is a book where the pages continually turn over without reprieve. So, I have to ask myself, what is the point of all the memories this old man has? They spill out of my head and onto the keyboard and through my fingers like a waterfall spilling onto the palette that is my writing desk, only to end their journey on a printed page, before me. Will anybody read my words? If they do, will it matter at all? I am just an old timer. There are many like me

3-31-19 copyright by randy cobleigh all rights reserved

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