Thirteen is supposed to be an unlucky number to some. I'm not sure why.
I was reading the other day that the average American lifespan is about 78 years. This means that I may have 13 years left in this life. 78 breaks down into six batches of 13. I have spent 5 of my batches getting to the age of 65 and now have my final batch of 13 to look forward to. Those batches seem to be shorter and shorter with the years. The first batch of 13 took a long time to pass by. I learned to walk and talk and write and all the fundamental requirements to get along in life during those 13 years. The next 13 years, I spent in high school and college and establishing a foothold in a career and gaining a wife and children and a home – Very busy years!
The next three batches of 13 years are a blur with a collage of memories stumbling over each other leading through a myriad of adventures culminating in this very moment.
Here I am at retirement (just the other day, I was a young man starting out).
Life flew by so quickly.
I have maybe 13 years left in this, my life, to enjoy. I understand now that life is to be savored and tasted – not to just be consumed. I understand now that each day is special and has some redeeming quality to be remembered – if you just take the time to recognize it. Each season has it's flavor to be experienced – not just endured. Some grey days may have a bitter taste with heart-wrenching memories, but they must take their place in your memory. They will help make the sweet tasting days seem that much sweeter and add color to your memories.
I hope that the next 13 years are lucky years. I will try to notice the sunsets and listen to the music and feel the wind.