Oil on canvas, 16x20
Today, I turn 55.
I'm not sure how I feel about it, really. I mean, of course, it's just another day, and I am no older today vs. Sunday than I was Sunday vs. Saturday. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't think of the passage of time, and the passage of my time in particular.
On Friday, I had an assessor come over and look at the stuff of my mother's that's been in our garage for the past two years. Today, I gave my daughter my mother's old spice rack, with spices intact, that I'd been using - even though it didn't fit at all in the spot we have for spices.
These days, all these days lately, I've been watching the ebb and flow of what must surely be the last weeks of my ancient and beloved dog's life.
And today, I turn 55.
There was a time, not so long ago, that the thought of dying terrified me. Life felt like a corridor lined with doors, and I could hear them slamming shut behind me as my choices decreased, day by day.
Sure, the doors behind me are shut - but the ones in front of me are open.
While death is surely approaching, I can say that if I died today, I'd die happy with the life I've led.
And that is saying something.
The world headquarters of Jacobson Arts is in Gales Ferry, CT