Looking Ahead

Today is my mother's birthday. She would have been 56. She died last year, when she was 54.

I am 27. In 27 years, I will also be 54. I don't even know what to make of that. What if I only have half of my life left, instead of 2/3 or something? (What if I get hit by a bus tomorrow?)

My dad was 58 when he died. Needless to say, I don't think I'm going to live a long time anyway.

So I've done a lot. I have a lot to be proud of. But suddenly I'm struck with the thought....Only 27 more years. And I dare to waste them by just sitting around the house? Why aren't I writing?

I spend a lot of time grading and I think that is worthwhile. If I help even one student, that student can go on to help his/her child, or sibling, or coworker, who can then go on to help others. That's pretty darn awesome.

But if I keep putting things off, assume I can get to it when I'm 40 or 50, I'll find myself out of luck. The world won't mourn the loss of my non-existent Chaucer articles. But I will.