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