Strained the old arm playing baseball with the kids this weekend.  Not throwing, as you might suspect, but batting.  Guess I turned the power arm over too hard or too often hitting fungos to the outfield and am now paying the price.  Rather pitiful.

My feet are better but still hurt quite a bit when I walk on hard floors without shoes.  I try to not do that very often but, man, what a drag.

I have trouble sleeping still.  In fact it’s not yet 5:00AM and I have been awake for well over an hour.  I will be very tired by lunchtime and will likely have to take a nap.  Just like grandma used to do.

I noticed the sagging of the skin on my inner wrist, my neck, the back of my arm.  Man, I guess I am getting old.

Am I getting old or just getting older?  Are the best years of my life really behind me or are there more perhaps yet to come?  Have I done all of the significant things in life that I was meant to do or able to do?  How much time do I have left?  Will I fade slowly and sadly or quickly and with barely a whisper in doing so?  Or can I go out a bit better than that?

Hell, I don’t know.  Who does?  I would imagine that a good number of folks spend far too much time worrying about such things.  I have fallen into that trap a few times lately.  Please, no more.

I am trying to re-invent myself.  Like that expression?  I really don’t but it’s early and I am too tired to try to find another.  I simply want to do some of the things that I really enjoy and hopefully have them be able to provide a decent living so that I can to continue to support my family for some time to come.

Sometimes it’s all about just getting started and then, once begun, maintaining some sort of forward progress.  Walk, stumble, walk on.  Walk, fall, rise, walk on.  Always keep walking on.  Keep on truckin’ as we used to say.

Sometimes I feel very old.  And sometimes I don’t.  Playing baseball with my kids I felt young- until I hurt my arm for no apparently good reason and then I suddenly felt old…and weak…and rather useless.

Useless, helpless, hopeless.  Are these the words that describe me?  Are these the words that now define me?

God I hope not.  No, actually I think not.  No, they absolutely will not.

I will do the things that I choose to do.  I have attained a position and place in life where that is just possible and I will not watch the opportunity slide by me.  I simply have to do and no longer just wish or think or dream or hope.  Just do.

And, yes, perhaps there are a few things that I will need to back off of doing or perhaps give up doing altogether.  I guess that is life as it heads toward death.  Sorry if that’s depressing but you can never forever hide from the truth.

There’s life left to live and any life left living is life not yet dead.

So, yeah, I’ll continue to have to give up some things I suppose but don’t worry kids, baseball will definitely not be one of those.  Ever.

They’ll have to roll me up into a tight little ball and knock me out of the park to make that happen.

In fact, in thinking about that as a way to go…what a way to go.

Play Ball!