This is the next in a series of excerpts from my journal, written during the last year of Dave's life.
I’m starting to get a sense of what’s different. It’s not just
getting old and it’s not just tending to an ever-weakening Dave
with all the accompanying sadness. It’s making decisions, taking
independent-feeling steps that, for the first time, do not lead from
one man to another, not even from one person to another. I am not
striving, but striding. Not wanting to have, but wanting to be. I
feel, at least today, strong and stable—less cowed, less cornered.
I think I’m learning now, nearer the end of my life, how to live
it.
image: youtube.com
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