The Bloody Doors Off

I’m approaching 56 in a couple of months, and I’m beginning to really feel it.

Yesterday, while doing a little cleanup around the condo, bending elicited grunts and winces of pain from various joints.

I had to beg off a hospital visit this weekend, because I’ve come to realize I have a little bit of PTSD over the heart attack back in April. I seriously don’t want to step foot in that place if I can help it. If I’m bent over and rise too quickly, or sometimes for no reason, I’ll get light-headed and my pulse will quicken and my heart will raise an objection. It takes me a minute to assure myself I’m not having another cardiac event. That’s how much this is ingrained.

I’m approaching 56, and I can see the majority of my life in the rearview mirror.

And I’m not sure what I have to show for it.

I have a wife, and son. They are my life.

But have I affected the world around me for the better? Have I even tried?

What is my legacy? Do I have one?

Who will remember me when I’m gone?

So yeah. Happy Sunday everyone.