Note: Edited on 12/19/18
This post is inspired by the the Square Photo Challenge topic—Time—for the month of December. There are no square photos in this post and it is not to be considered as an entry in the challenge.
Ever the lover of a good paradox—and a card-carrying dweller on the Threshold—I finished my last day of work at night. Fog poured in from the West as I crossed the Golden Gate Bridge just before midnight.
A Van Morrison CD in the car stereo played Into the Mystic.
We were born before the wind
Also younger than the sun…
Approaching midspan, the foghorns below the bridge answered Van’s plaintive refrain.
And when that foghorn blows, you know I will be coming home…
I had a countdown app on my phone that tracked the months, days, hours, and minutes until Zero Hour. Somehow it made the concept of retirement more real for me.
And when that foghorn whistle blows, I gotta hear it…
What did the future hold? How much longer did I have left in my life?
I don‘t have to fear it
The Clock of Life
by Robert H. Smith
The clock of life is wound but once,
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour.
To lose one’s wealth is sad indeed,
To lose one’s health is more,
To lose one’s soul is such a loss
That no man can restore.
The present only is our own,
So Live, Love, toil with a will
Place no faith in “Tomorrow”
For the clock may then be still.
And I wanna rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old…
I left the app on my phone for another year, just to verify that it was actually true. I had, indeed, retired.
And together we will fold
Into the mystic.
Life has been good for the last 4+ years. The Lioness and I have been blessed to celebrate 50 years of marriage this year and, together, look forward to whatever awaits us between the Hands of Time.
…Come on, girl
Too late to stop now.
Note: Into the Mystic, Music and lyrics by Van Morrison, 1970, Warner Bros. Records