life, new old age, retirement


November 7, 2022

Fallen leaves covering ground around tree trunk in front of wooded fence.

I woke up early, my sleep unhinged by daylight saving time, and found that for the third time in barely two months, I had lost a friend. All were about my age, two were taken by cancer, and each was a very special soul who made the world a brighter place.

The one who just passed helped me take my first steps in broadcasting at a college radio station in a basement in Michigan nearly fifty years ago. Another was a grad-school classmate in Washington, both of us trying to hit the big time in the news business. The third was a colleague in the job I retired from, the kind everyone depended on and who always came through.

Because of geography and life changes, I hadn’t been close to any of the three for awhile and kept in touch mainly on social media. It still hurts to know they’re gone, and it scares me a little besides. It’s gotten to the point where my Facebook app auto-completes “condolences.”

I know this goes with my advancing age. I’ve always understood that some of the people I cherish won’t make the journey with me. I’m just not ready for my space to feel so empty so fast, the light beginning to dim like my old regular pub at last call. Tonight I’ll stay home but will hoist a few for my friends and probably listen to this song a few times.


2 thoughts on “Falling”

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