Sorry about yesterday, but it illustrates, again, how life is–strange. I was sad.

Now, today, I’m not. There have been crises (Yes, that is correct) my entire life, as with most of us. For some reason, though, it’s hard to remember they will pass, life will go on, and often times better than before. If I wrote it on my hand it would wash off, so we’ll see how long it takes to forget if I write it here, because more crises are on the way. That’s life in our older days.

The two obvious differences between a young person crisis and an old person crisis is, one, the potential for a crisis is baked into old age as body parts fail, memory lapses, and young people get noisier. And, two, the time to recover. Much like investing, there is a time when you might not have enough time left make up what you lost. Youth is wasted on the young…

And there’s always the final crisis, the last trip to the hospital. When I worked with an aged population, they knew what going into a hospital meant: You didn’t always come out upright.

A lot of love has been lost in my life, and each time it was not as long as one might think before a new love took the old one’s place. But the recovery was helped by youthful vigor and activity, a “get right back on the horse” mentality. Besides not being able to mount anything now, there aren’t many horses my age around these parts, pardner.

Well, this turned into a complaint about old age, despite how hard I steered the other way. It isn’t wasted time, though, because we remember things better when we write them down. (Proof: See how often I remember that phrase?)

I’ll never, again, succumb to sadness during a crisis.

None, of you should, either.

Yeah. Right. Life, have at us.