I was told something yesterday that is kind of chilling and inspirational at the same time.

[slightlv]

53. IMO, you have a very wise son!

I'm basically coming to the same conclusion. I'm 68; hubby is 72. There's enough right here in this house that needs to be taken care of... things I either can do, or ask someone to help with. The country? Not so much.

I feel bad, tho. I gave it my all through the years. Voted and supported Democrats; marched and chanted for women and minority rights since I was 16. Protested against stupid wars and fake wars, both national and global, during all that. Tried to make a place of peace where everyone could be just who they are. No expectations; no demands. Just enjoy someone for who they are inside and out. I was one of the Flower Children, with stars in my eyes and rose-colored glasses who thought we could actually make a difference in the world if we worked at it. And boy, did we work at it. Well, the rose-colored glasses are stored in a "memory box", the stars are fallen from my eyes, and my memory darkens and at this point, I'm not so sure that's not a good thing.

I leave it to my generation's descendents to carry on the fight. They're the ones who are going to have to live with the consequences the longest. I'll stand ready to recount how we did what we did, but remembering to tell them, look where it got us. You will have to change your tactics.

I've already decided to just chill as much as possible for as long as possible. I absolutely don't know if there will be a tomorrow for me to worry about. I have Lupus and Fibromyalgia. My back is to die for -- literally. I could kick off with a stroke or a heart attack, or from sheer worry over DH and grandson. There are no guarantees. I'll budget to try to meet the bills to hang on to a roof over our head, for as long as I can. I'll gather my catkids in close and make sure they always have enough to eat, and enough love to know they're loved. And I'll begin to laugh at the strange connections my DH's brain makes these days... like bringing home Wonder Bagels instead of Wonder Buns.

But that evil POS will only own any piece of me when I can't control it... as in nightmares and night terrors. And, as broken as my sleep is anymore, I can always stay away more than sleep, and that'll take care of that. I will grieve for what has been lost; I will no doubt rage at what is taken away. But it will all be done knowing there is nothing I can do about changing a damn thing. My only hope there actually is a life after death... and I can apologize to that wise Chinese philosopher who blessed us with the words, "May you live in interesting times."