I think it was John Updike who said that a person lives his life for thirty years and spends the rest of it trying to understand what happened. At forty-three, I wonder if I have already turned that corner. Have most of my mountains been scaled? Am I now in the valley of self-reflection?
"I am so lonely, but I know there is a plan. There must be. I can muscle through my life until the next move is clear. I miss you all so much. I am alone for most of the time. It's just me and the cats and dogs. Nobody comes up. Nobody stops by. It's not like it used to be -- so full of life. Perhaps I'll move down there with you. But not now. There is a plan, and I must follow it. I must follow it even though it's too quiet around here."
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