The other day someone called and asked, “Is it going to be busy in the bowling alley this afternoon?”
“I don’t know,” I said. I thought about making a snarky comment about my broken crystal ball.
I think it was the same day that some called and asked how far we were from Woodstock. “I suggest using Google maps for that,” I said.
That was the same caller who asked about what else there is to do in Cooperstown, NY, besides our sports center. “Most people come here for the Baseball Hall of Fame,” I told her.
“Oh, I don’t know anything about that,” she replied.
How or where she got our number remains a mystery to me. Why someone would call a sports facility with questions like that also remain a mystery.
“Where do you see yourself in ten years?” My friend who had asked me about my goals asked me that question yesterday.
Who knows? Literally, who freaking knows?
(Side note: my use of “freaking” indicates what a frustrating question that is, but that’s about as far as I go with “f”-words. Side-side note: I saw an story yesterday that the actor who plays Roy Kent on Ted Lasso had done a bit on Sesame Street about his favorite “f” word — which turned out to be “fairness.” Well done, Sesame Street.)
Where do I see myself in ten years? I started doing mental math on how old my children and grandchildren would be. Laurel, my youngest daughter, would be 28. Wilma, my youngest granddaughter, would be 12. My oldest grandson would be 17. My oldest son would be 47.
The more mental math I did, the more I realized how much I define myself by the people in my life.
So what about me? In ten years, I will be 72.
At the gym I see 72 year old women climbing the rock wall. Heck, I see a 92 year old woman who comes in nearly every day to swim and walk the track.
But if COVID has taught us nothing else, it has taught us that life is fragile and can’t be taken for granted. Health and life can be snatched away with little warning.
Where do I see myself in ten years? Phooey. I hate the question. It ranks right up there with “What’s your goal?”
As hokey as this saying is, I think it holds a lot of truth — “Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. And today? Today is a gift. That’s why we call it the present.” (Eleanor Roosevelt)
(This post is mostly Stream of Consciousness writing based on the Linda Hill’s prompt: nose/noes/knows for today.)