Years ago there was a country / western song about a farmer.
It was the end of summer, he had crops that were ready to harvest, he had kids that were ready for school and his wife, whose name poetically was Lucille, decided to leave him.
The songs main line was: “You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille.” Like a lot of country songs, you had to weep at the poor chap’s hardship.
Then someone did a parody (this was after Homer and Jethro, so it wasn’t them). In the parody version a guy was riding a bicycle at a good clip when the front wheel came off. The title for that version was: “You picked a fine time to leave me, loose wheel!”
Either version reminds me that there is eerily true.
As I get older, my “you picked a fine time to leave me” list is lengthening!
In our Idaho house there seemed to be just too much space between things. In the bus there sometimes seems to be too little space. Things are pretty compacted. Things I thought were important are not so much any longer.
The stuff that we no longer have is gone and I have made peace with most of that
Right now when Miriam and I could be having such a good life, we are not having the life we might have planned. It is not all bad, by any measure, but it is different. Other family members are slipping too. There are a lot of things that are leaving us.
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