In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Six of One, Half a Dozen of the Other.” Write a six-word story about what you think the future holds for you, and then expand on it in a post.
Art, dogs, friends, travel, mountains, death.
I’m sixty-three, almost sixty-four. There’s no way to know what that means in terms of “years remaining.” If I could know, I wouldn’t want to. But the odds are that my death will not be in another fifty years. When my mom was this age (and my brother was — as always — a demanding, dependent, mess) she went around singing, “I haven’t got time for the pain.” She was done. Enough of her life had been hard and painful; she didn’t want any more. Well, the poor woman was not constituted for happiness…
I hated the song. I hated it anyway based on the way it sounded, but I also hated it on general principle. I was young — 27 — and I thought that pain = life and I wanted life more than any other thing. Still, I recall writing about my then love relationship with a guy who was gay, proclaiming, “There’s no single defining quality in pain.” If you ask me what I meant at the time, I couldn’t answer with certainty, but I think I was thinking (already) that it is not pain (alone?) that makes us US. But I could just have been writing something deep. No idea. Still, I hung in that hopeless relationship knowing my boyfriend wasn’t suddenly going to “go straight.” I thought the pain of the relationship was just the price I had to pay for a love that was, in many ways, absolutely great.
Suffering was the only thing that made me feel I was alive
Though that’s just how much it cost to survive in this world
So at sixty-three and 5/6ths I can say that gratuitous drama has no interest for me. Sadly, there is a lot of it in this world. Instead, I’m interested in the opportunity to create, the beauty of this place where I live, my dogs, friendships and the chance to travel without scheduling it around school holidays. I don’t expect a drama free future (I’m sure it will have its share of drama) but I do know that — sorry mom for not understanding — I haven’t got time for the pain.
I still hate the song. Shudder, but here it is…