It is mindboggling to me how many years have gone by since that snowy March day that DB brought me to the hospital in labor with our firstborn. No, I won't tell you just HOW many, respecting our daughter's right to reveal this herself.

Years go rushing by. Live in the moment, the Buddists say (actually, most major religions have this idea in them somewhere), and that suggestion becomes more imperative the older one gets. It is too easy to be either worrying so much about tomorrow or regretting too much about the past that you miss the glories of the present.

Lyra (our daughter's online name)is working on her doctorate. We are very proud of her, but not surprised. She has always been a practical dreamer. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but it isn't for her. She sees what can be and works towards it in a pragmatic way. (Didn't Bobby Kennedy say something like that..."others see what can't be done, I dream about what could be and work for it"?)

She also works a fulltime job, so none of this is easy. But then, that has never stopped her before. She got her bachelor's degree parttime with young children needing her. One of my favorite memories is that of little Lydia (our granddaughter's online name)sitting at the table with her notebook and pencil, working hard on her letters while her Mom sat next to her working on her homework.

Now that granddaughter, having achieved her own degree, is living and working in Chile'. That's what I mean about living in the moment. Suppose that little scene of Lydia and Lyra studying together had been overlooked while we concentrated on regretting the past or worrying about the future? That little one is now grown, off on her own, and we would have missed a precious part of life.

This morning my hairdresser and I were talking about a gentleman we know who is angry about growing old and having to live in a nursing home. He is making life very difficult for himself, the staff, and the other residents. His anger is toxic to all around him. I don't minimize the agonies of growing old, losing body functions and independence, dealing with chronic pain, and losing old friends. I visit enough elderly in different situations to know growing old isn't for sissies (Bette Davis said that, I think).

However, I also know that facility and how the staff works to make life interesting and immediate for all their clients. There is always something to do and field trips to take. It is more of an assisted living complex than a critical care place, so the clients are mostly mobile and active. Anger is NOT going to change this man's physical situation and it keeps him from enjoying the small things that are still available to him.

So, I wonder, will I be smart enough to enjoy the moment even when my independence is gone and I'm in a facility somewhere? I hope so; no, I pray so. God has been exceptionally good to me; the best way I can express my gratitude to God is to concentrate on the joys of the moment: the bird song, the light slanting in the window, the smile of an over-worked aide, a good cup of coffee. Those people who adjust to this weakening of the body are those who never lose sight of the little joys of life.

Life is too good to waste in anger and regret. Thanks be to God.