At 56. . . .

At 56, life is a cliché. Am I being hyperbolic? Is there any originality out there? Hopefully so, but I hope to not bore you as an old hack might. Regardless, my point is coming.

My dad retired at 55; one of my roommates retired, at the age of 54, last Friday. I’m 56 and both of my employers are downsizing, so, I will lose the lion’s portion of my income. But, maybe the loss is only illusory. Maybe cold hard cash is a manifestation of a now defunct dream?

Nonetheless, I believe that FAITH is substance. What does that make me? And how do I pick up that grand old shield of faith? Because it looks like I will need it – NOW! Or, shouldn’t I express it in this manner: now. J

Or, perhaps I need to take a chill pill and wait and see what the Man Upstairs does. I think I’ll schedule an appointment with Him. Then, we’ll proceed with care.


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