It’s difficult to write about my appreciation of my quality of life without it sounding all syrupy and disgustingly sweet, but I’m going to try my best. Pardon me if a little sugar spills upon you while reading this.
Out for a walk
I was heading home from the morning walk with Toby a few days ago, and I came across a couple, about my age, cleaning out their RV, a Forest River Solero Class B, a style I happen to like a great deal. I asked them how they liked their RV; seemed like the friendly thing to do, the RV community notoriously friendly, and me wanting to be a part of all that.
The guy smiled, said he loved it, a 2014 model, never any problem with it. I asked if they were getting ready to take her out on the first spring RV trip of the year. He shook his head, a cloud of melancholy spread across his facial features, as his wife told me the first trip is delayed until her husband has an operation to have a heart valve replaced.
“You get to be our age,” he said, “if it’s not one thing, it’s a hundred.”
A moment of reflection about quality of life
His words rang with truth, for most people, as they enter their seventies, begin to experience a breakdown of this machine we call the human body. It is inevitable, really, despite our protestations and our plans to live to be one-hundred. This body of ours has a shelf-life. Parts begin to malfunction, parts break down, and the seventies, and eighties, are times, for millions of people, of reflection about our frailties and our limitations.
Perhaps I’m a bit more reflective about our life span than most. Almost my entire adopted family has passed on. All of my biological family are gone. They all died of malfunctioning this or malfunctioning that, many at an age far younger than my current seventy-three, and I find myself wondering, from time to time, why it is that I am the last man standing in my extended family? Why is my quality of life so darned good? From a health standpoint, my qol, or quality of life, is outstanding, and by any other method of comparison, my quality of life is fantastic. I am loved. I have a home, vehicles, the proverbial white picket fence, and a travel trailer for good measure.
This guy is blessed!
Which leads to more reflection
And so, as I seek happy retirement years, and as my wife and I embark on a part-time RV lifestyle, I am left with a very obvious observation: I need to live, as Tim McGraw suggested, like I am dying, and find appreciation in the miracles of life I am allowed, and privileged, to partake in daily, for none of us truly knows when we will experience that last wondrous moment.
The wonders of life are many, and I want to experience the wonder of it all each and every day, whether it is on a long RV trip, or a long walkabout on some trail, or simply sitting on the porch, watching a hummingbird do aerial acrobatics.
I feel, in fact, a certain responsibility to do so, for all of the members of my two families no longer have that opportunity, the ability to wake up each day, and squeeze more enjoyment out of this thing called life.
Appreciating my quality of life is something I plan on doing daily, and I wish the same for all of you who are reading my words. And, before I forget, I truly do appreciate each and every one of you. My online friendships are very real for me. I am hoping that, once we start taking prolonged trailer trips, and once I try long-distance walking, some of you will find a way to visit us while we are on the road/trail. That would be a great thrill for me, to finally meet you in person.
Catch you down the Road of Life!
P.S. Of course, from the time this was written, about seven days ago, to today when I am posting it, I managed to come down with COVID, thanks to my living wife, but that experience only strengthens my resolve to live life to the fullest going forward. There is not a minute to waste, in my eyes.
Thank you Liz! We both had very mild symptoms. It was gone almost as quickly as it arrived. Feeling great now, but thank you for your concern. See you down the Road of Life, my friend.
I am really sorry to hear about COVID. I hope you both recovered quickly and well, so that you can resume enjoying every moment and marveling at the wonder of it all. I look forward to virtually joining you on your RV adventures.
Hey, Genna, thanks for finding me. It’s so nice to hear from you. Truth be told, I miss HP, but they just made it too hard for me to enjoy the process. Now I visit with people through blogs and other social media, and that will just have to do for my HP fix. It was a good ten years and I’m very grateful for it.
Anyway, thanks for reaching out. I am completely over COVID, a mild case thankfully. I hope this finds you well.
Hi Bill. I found you! It’s been some time since the days at Hubpages. I miss seeing you there, although it’s been some time since I’ve written a hub. (So many changes, it’s a little challenging to navigate these days, if not somewhat of a mystique — not at all like the HP days of old.) What a wonderful article about the qualities of life. I’m so sorry to learn of you coming down with Covid. Feel better soon, and blessings to both you and Bev. 🙂
Thank you Misbah! I hope you are living your life to the fullest. Your recent losses should serve as a reminder that we are all living on borrowed time. Blessings to you always, my talented friend.
Hello Mr. Bill, I hope you are doing well now. You are so lucky to have a loving partner like Ms. Bev. I wish you both never-ending happiness and joy. I agree that none of us truly knows when we will experience that last wondrous moment of our life. We shall not waste time and should live life to its fullest. Thanks for the important reminder.
Please take good care of yourself. Sending lots of love and blessings to you and your family.