Driving across town early this morning to take Dolly for her run, I noticed how much I can see now that the deciduous trees are all bare. All the buildings down town; all the state buildings; churches and the make-shift tents of the homeless. The Golden Man almost blinding in the winter sunshine.

I can see a few things metaphorically speaking too.

I always try to do a bit of personal evaluating with each new year. I have usually moved on from that before it takes hold, but a couple of things are worth writing down.

I really like to live in the present and avoid feeling sad about the past. However, when evaluating, I had to admit how sorry I am that I have not been able to spend much time with my adult children for much of the past twenty-five years. I can see that very clearly.

I think that’s just probably the way it is for many families whose children are happy and independent and choose to move in new directions professionally and geographically. Of course, in my case, I chose to move away professionally and geographically too. For the most part, these have been good decisions for all of us. It just means that I now live in a place I love but not where I raised the children. So this is not “home” for them, and we live far away from each other.

Nevertheless, Katherine and I have spent a number of memorable Christmases together. Elizabeth and I have enjoyed some amazing adventures. And Meg and I had many happy times during the ten years she lived in Oregon.

Besides loving them, I really like all of them and wish I could spend lots of the time I have left with them.

Ironically, some of my friends are alienated or estranged from their progeny for some pretty awful reasons. Like religious or political differences. I’m sure they love each other but don’t like each other really at all.

Anyway, in addition to the things I can see clearly, some questions remain. In spite of my determination to live in the present, of course I am concerned about my future. How long will I be able to stay in this house I love? Where will I go when I can’t live here any longer? How long can I keep on keeping on? I really don’t want to be a nuisance to anyone. I see that very clearly.

A man was here this week putting up some pretty railings on the front steps as the last step in repairing things that were demolished in last winter’s ice storm. He said he thought perhaps I might like to consider putting up only one railing because it could be hard to move large pieces of furniture in or out of the house with two.

Several thoughts came to my mind. None of which I though he wanted to hear.

On another level, I see clearly that I’m not ready to go gray. I’m sticking with my life-long dishwater brown for now.