William H Watson

Growing Old in a Cattle Feed lot William H Watson

Somewhere in my life's arc I passed a point where I can no longer say I am still young, middle aged, or senior. It wouldn't take much, maybe a subtle hunch in the shoulders, a hesitation to answer a simple question, a struggle for the right word, or a watering of the eyes to pass into the realm of the elderly, or maybe less forgiving words like "old man." It's our universal fate, and there's comfort in that, but it doesn't mean that I have to accept my passing life without some reflection or effort to make sense of it. The meaning of life still eludes our best thinkers, to me, suggesting that it is really something very personal and not a universal truth. . And so, this collection of essays is my musing about what I know about life, and what I think about loving, getting old, and dying. Don't look in these lines for your truth; you'll have to find you own way to the other side. From what I learned so far, and late in life, the path is all about your family and the people in your immediate world. These are the people who call me Bill and smile when they see me.