The other morning a stunningly beautiful woman sat in the pew in front of me
After mass I had to tell her how gorgeous she was.
And as women do, a lengthy conversation with laughter and anecdotes shared, followed.
Somewhere along the line I said:
“There are days when I wish I knew, what I know now, when I was twenty.”
She nodded in agreement and I carried on.
“I was a wild child in my twenties. Ignorance is bliss. I wouldn’t have had as much fun if I’d known.”
I could see in her face that she was somewhat taken aback. And she said something to indicate that she’d not really been a “wild child.”
Dang! Not only was she gorgeous but I don’t believe she ever lived “Where the Wild Things Are.” Or slithered on slippery slopes. Or skated close to fatal edges.
So the question arises:
Am I a better person for the way I lived?
Am I more understanding?
Am I more forgiving?
What, if anything of value, am I bringing to this crazy world we live in?
I once asked the Captain if I would make a good nun.
After he’d picked himself off the floor, wiped his eyes and stopped laughing, he said,
At this stage of my life I have to consider that I might be alone again. And no, even if I wanted to, I don’t think I’d be of any use what with wonky store-bought joints and a funky breathing apparatus.
Still. It’s heartening to know that someone did apply to an order, was accepted and truly made a difference. Read: I joined the Jesuit Volunteer Elder Corps at 68--and never looked back.
Cyber hugs and Blessings All.