Considering the longevity of my parents it is not surprising that their affairs are in order. It wasn't however a process which was accomplished without effort. As lately as last week my mother bemoaned the sale of her former house which she and my father built over 50 years ago. Though my mother persisted to imagine that she could manage the property and deal with the 2-storey dwelling, it was an absurd preoccupation in view of her declining health and mental capacity. It was also shortly before my father's death that we concluded the sale of 200 acres belonging to my parents in New Brunswick, property which had been in the family for several generations and which my mother senselessly imagined would remain so.
The inevitability of a parent's mortality never fails to promote its proximity to the children who are destined to become orphans. When parents have enjoyed a largely healthful and prolonged existence it is manifestly appropriate - if not indeed imperative - that the living children should be grateful and philosophic. It hardly bears repeating that under such circumstances one should do everything to relish what time and opportunity remains. Speaking for myself I have always maintained that life owes me nothing. This unqualified gratitude heightens every detail of my unfulfilled ambition. I can honestly say that I suffer neither regret nor misfortune. Whatever follows is pure gravy. I too have sought to organize my personal affairs to assure the same fluidity that my parents have succeeded to accomplish. It is perhaps serendipitous that in spite of my materialism I haven't chained myself to adventitious factors. I consider that the limited objects which remain within my personal sphere represent the distilled essence of what I adore. In that respect life goes on but only by imperceptible degrees and vicariously.
As usual I translate change into possibility. It is never long before I view any path as just another road. Often I comment that nothing happens without a reason; and similarly that there is a reason things happen. Basically we make it happen. This fortuity isn't to be confused with a narrow objective. The estimate of its success is limited only by one's capacity for interpretation and an element of focus. I have willingly learned to accept my compass of performance, by which I mean I am neither despondent nor egregious. Admittedly this posture borders on gloating triumph but I prefer to consider it open-mindedness and pragmatism. If nothing else it has enabled me to crystallize my parameters (though some say it is a disguised partiality). Fortunately for me I am cheerfully motivated by limited achievement. At least from my metaphors arise a degree of enlargement. I am a sucker for idioms especially my personal dialect. And raw vegetables.