Fifty became the magic age. I knew that as long as I was in good health, in this day and age, I probably had a good fifty years ahead of me. Then came the asthma. OK, I had that much earlier, but it only became life threatening after fifty. Then came the firbromyalgia. OK, I had THAT earlier, but it’s not life threatening. Then came the arthritis, and, more recently, at fifty-five, came the diabetes. Somewhere, along in there, I became very interested in pharmaceuticals, and, finally, one day, I became free.

I began by noticing the sunsets, and I had the time to stop and really wonder, at the beauty and the magnitude of it all. Then I moved onto the sunrises, and I quickly found out that if I wasted the early morning, I missed the loveliest part of the day. Then I began to notice how grateful I was to be able to witness the changing of the seasons. The first whisper of spring; the rustling of the leaves beneath my feet, in the fall; that first breathless covering of a winter’s snow; and in the summer, all the flowers, and the buzzing of a bumblebee.

When illness would hit me, I found that I, actually, enjoyed the solitude. A time to reflect, gather my thoughts, and pray, at leisure. I found that I was “experiencing” this mid-life season, and I was no longer missing every moment, shackled to the chains of worry, and what “might” be. I found that worrying about tomorrow, only served to make

me overlook the blessings of today. — Rogerknapp.com