Flying off the Coop

 It finally came to this that the season of life begins to change.  Another chapter is over and a new one yet to begin.  I have never felt more alone at any other point in my life than today.  The last of the children is flying off the coop ready to embark on a new adventure as I.

Yet, my view of the world is largely mournful.  I am shedding my identity as the Mother Hen and donning a new title as Geriatric.  I don’t see a vista of opportunities filled with excitement and options waiting to be discovered.  I am dreading the slow march to aging and eventually death.

The increasing beat to see doctors for waning health; applying band aid to aches and pains is exhausting.  The customary adjustment to prosthetics to see or hear better defines the new normal.  The constant prodding to take more health and safety precautions stamp my paranoia with realism.  It is no longer a conspiracy when the experience to natural decline is patently and painfully obvious.

My response to this is silence as I grapple with the imminent change.  I hornswoggled with the mirror pretending that a young girl is at the cusp of life.  It is not my face that stared back but my daughter’s and I am left with a deep sigh.  “Ahhh, life.  Whoever said it wasn’t without its challenge?  Is it worth it?”

I turned the page and begin to exhale.  “Here I go…ready or not, I only venture forward.”