A year ago I wrote about the Lost Year of 2020. Now here we are with 2021 ending and the Pandemic is still with us, although with a more positive outlook. I have had 3 Covid shots now. And the more I hear and read it appears the shots will become a repeating theme in the years to come. But I am grateful there is an alternative to ending up in the hospital, or morgue, with an otherwise controllable virus.
I am still working fulltime. I’ll be 70 in a couple of months. Doesn’t seem possible. My wife, my kids, and my grandkids are all moving forward. Farima, my lovely lady, is a sweet kind social worker whose present employment has her working with autistic people. She is good at what she does and it is a rewarding job. I am still working in radio and TV consulting. And, every month this old dog has to learn some new trick. The FCC rules and changing cultural / technological demands require adaptation and new skills to stay up with it all.
I had figured that by now I’d be retired. But then again as long as I am healthy enough and able to work – and I have a good job to work at – there is no real urgency in retiring. Every now and then I take a week off work or get a few extra days at home due to the pandemic or some scheduling issue with appointments or family visits. And almost without exception after a week off I am looking forward to going back to the office (to get some rest! Ha). My work is not only very challenging, but when I get it right it is very rewarding. I am blessed to have such good employment.
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Entering the holidays finds me a little apprehensive each year. This year is no different. Some years I have a real hard time fighting melancholy. Other years I seem to have a much better time. Generally speaking the holidays can been tough with friends, relatives, and associates fighting health issues and other stressors. Sometimes I think more people die during the winter months that at other times of the year, but I can’t say whether that is an accurate fact or not. For the most part, though, my struggles are with memories of those who have gone on before. It’s strange because I have more good memories than bad. But sometimes the bad ones get the best of me. I just need to focus on the good ones and give the bad ones away to forgetfulness.
I think the best medicine for me would be to write more. Writing is therapy. I seem to think through the keyboard. So maybe I need to purpose to write in this blog more than once a year. What do you think?