Saturday, October 24, 2009

Is That All There Is?

Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is

We live in an age restricted, guard-gated community that is built around a golf course.  It's a lovely development of single story homes with great views of the mountains and the strip.  We have a beautiful community center, an exceptional fitness center, a friendly beauty shop, and a bistro for quick meals.  It's a perfect place to live the golden years.


The view from our back patio


Husband and his golfing buddies after winning medals
at the Senior Olympics

We read the obituaries in the newspaper and count how many of the recently departed are younger than us. We speculate about how many years we might have left.  We remind our children what things in the house are valuable  so they won't throw them away.  We are conscious of the fact that "once you're over the hill you pick up speed" so "we dance as fast as we can."

Last week a neighbor told me that a coroner's car was parked down the street.  We knew this meant someone had died.  We didn't know who lived in the home and our sadness reminded us of our limited stay here on earth.

Because of the ages of our residents, death is a frequent visitor.  There is generally a short discussion of who died, who are the survivors, and are any services planned in Las Vegas? And then, we move on. Life continues.

Earlier this week I was driving down the street and saw this big, red dumpster in the driveway where the coroner was seen.  There were two younger adults in the garage scratching their heads and moving items into the dumpster.


My first thought was "and this is what it all amounts to."  All the stuff we accumulate over the years may be just a bunch of junk to those we leave behind.  How sad that we spend tons and tons of money on stuff, and when we die, others might see trash.

What memories did they trash?  Who lived there?  Did they have a good life?  Are the people in the garage sad? How often did they visit the people who lived there?  What will happen to the house?  Did they put everything in the dumpster and were some things important enough to take with them? A song recorded by Peggy Lee floated through my morbid state of mind as I slowly drove away.


Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is

8 comments:

  1. So many of these same thoughts go through my mind. I think what you've done here on this blog is one of the most valuable things you could leave behind.

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  2. I agree with Kasscho, that you're blog is documenting your footprint in this world. I have a feeling your children and granchildren will know how valuable you and your husband are.

    I have an award for you! Stop by to collect. :)

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  3. I noticed that you now have 20 followers. That's great! I'm so proud to have been one of the first to find you. Kasscho and Flory are correct about your blog. Keep it up. Your destiny is calling.

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  4. I love your blog. This will be a great legacy for your family! This story makes me want to keep it simple and not waste money on accumulating pointless things that won't matter after I am gone.

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  5. Thanks to all and I appreciate your encouraging comments. These are thoughts that we all hate to think and talk about.

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  6. Wonderful post!

    Even at 23, I often think of my own mortality and "legacy." It is an overwhelming thought, yet one you have expressed beautifully.

    - David

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  7. Some of my friends who are not bloggers comment to me by email. I thought, why not post them with a cut and paste? This is from Sylvia.

    Hi Chris,
    You are right, the world that was considered your center hiccups a bit and then drinks something to sooth themselves and keeps on going.

    Clutter is in all of our lives and I bet we have enough to rival anybody! Theresa will have a field day throwing stuff away, but by then it won't matter to me.

    Sylvia

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