Hey God,

I realize at this point in my life’s Act 3 I’m just on this side of the horizon.

I sit here now, visiting with a hospice patient. The TV is on, playing in the background a channel that features programs from the ’50s and ’60s.

The patient is actively engaged in conversation with me.

I sit and I listen. Every now and then, I add to the conversation; however, I recognize my role here is that of an active listener.

The patient doses off to sleep. She snores softly and ever so gently.

I become more aware of the sounds coming from the TV; in particular, the din of the ads bombarding the airwaves.

Clearly the media advertisers know that during the daytime hours this channel  is one that seniors turn on and watch regularly.

As I listen to the ads, I note the bleak picture for aging the ads are painting for the elderly . . . most definitely they are painting a doom-‘n-gloom future forecast for the aging process.

Yes, I acknowledge in my Act 3 that I’m just on this side of life’s horizon; and I realize I have before me a blank canvas on which to paint the final scene of my life’s horizon.

And how do I envision this painting?

The final horizon I’m painting shows a magnificent sunset, filled with the most marvelous hues, honoring the beautiful life I have lived and the glorious life lessons of Your loving I have learned and mastered.

Loving You,

Robert, aka Bob

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