Rudy

I spent some time in the garden with Dana and Rudy this morning. While Dana hauled rocks around in a wheelbarrow and set stepping stones, Rudy dug himself a little burrow in the very soil she had just loosened, and settled down, while I indulged in some introspective moments.

Whether I like it or not, I am coming to accept the fact that I have reached the winter of my life... that the face that looks back at me from the mirror is not that of a twenty year old, that my children are now well past the age I often think of myself as being, that pruning plants, even plants growing on a steep scree slope, is no longer the simple task it once was. I have aches and pains I never thought much about when I didn't have them, and I am struck by the fact that other people, especially people who don't know me, are seeing me as that older person I didn't used to think I was!

On the other hand, I like to think that some wisdom has come with the realization. That I can be more tolerant, more grateful, more curious, more accepting, more loving. I like to think that although my time is growing shorter, I actually have more time to appreciate the small things--my grandson's incredibly long eyelashes, the wall of sunflowers under the bird feeder, the hummingbirds bathing in the fountain early in the morning, the generosity with which Dana spends her time and her energy helping us.

I like to think that the memories of the past will give me the ability to live in the moment, that I have learned something from my mistakes, that I can take pride in my accomplishments and build on them. As for the future, something I read recently sums it up better than I could--"It's not what you gather, but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived."