on mattering

I'm a little melancholy tonight. I'm thinking about my favorite aunt who is in her 80s and how our society revolves around young people. I don't want the elderly to feel forgotten. To think that they don't matter because youngins are busy building careers and raising families. In my middle-aged years, I can look at girls 20 years younger and remember what it was like to be that age and I imagine my aunt can look at me the same way. I hope she can see how much I revere her when I return her gaze.

Before my favorite uncle died, he said getting chemo was so depressing, you spend so much time in sterile waiting rooms with doctors that speak so somberly because fighting for your life is no laughing matter. But he craved lightness. "I wish I had something to read that was targeted specifically to my cohort. And dialysis patients, how horrible is that? It takes 4 hours every 3 days, you have nothing but time. It would be nice to read something uplifting and funny."

I've been thinking deeply about life. What will I think when I am 80? Will I be at peace with my contribution to earth? Was it enough to try?