Did you miss me?

I was away for a week, on an errand of mercy, serving as  grief counsellor for a dear friend who has lost his dog.  I wrote about it a few days ago ("pain".)  He needed company to go to Cleveland on business and couldn't bear to travel alone.  It was hard on me for several reasons, chief being that  I relived my own grief when my husband died.  I dredged up feelings and memories I had buried.  One does, after all, develop scar tissue that forms over the wound. Not to dwell on it now.  But, hey! what a lovely city Cleveland is!  It has grand public buildings; Western Reserve University has a generous, lovely campus; The Cleveland art Museum (with a new atrium and layout) is delightful; the main library is gracious; the Terminal building is a genuine and attractive landmark and I went crazy in a huge, gorgeous, used book store.   It was a privilege to discover such a delightful, genuine, American city. The Cleveland Symphony (I knew it already as one of the best in the country) the theatre (lots of them) were both dark, so I'll have to go back.  Also, I want to see the new Museum of Modern Art.  These are not Band-Aids; they are all salutary sources of comfort. I am so grateful.

where did the time go?

I used to think that when I was 80 I'd have time to read or re-read all the books I never had time for.  I did that after I graduated from university, took the time to read the books not on the courses but recommended  or intriguing. I had a list.  Well, I have another list now, longer than it was,  and I'm still adding to it. But I seem to be busier than I expected, also more tired.  And I'm still trying to catch up with current publications as well as with my own thinking, ongoing.  Because I am still thinking, oddly enough. The inner dialogue never stops and it runs counterpoint to whatever my current focus is. People seem to think I've retired. Not. Though not as public as I was, I am sill writing (it's marketing that's harder). You know that classic gaffe that interviewers are reported to ask older people, like me: who did you used to be?  The thing is, I still am.  Where did the time go?