Extra Time

​I know that I’m only be 60 years old, but damn, the slightest bit of cool wind can cut right through me. This used to not be the case 10 years and 130 lbs ago. Now I understand how old skinny Judge felt when he worked the guard shack back at Ithaca. In the mail today I got a variety pack of medical procedures that were approved by my insurance company. Of course they were written in medical jargon so I had to look anything up. Some of the approved procedures made since. But some of them I didn’t know I even had done. Anyway, instead of diving down that rabbit hole, I decided to go outside and enjoy the frozen sunshine.
 
So with hands under my armpits, I breathe in the crisp autumn air. Listening to the leaves rustling in the wind. And of course the roaring of the diesel engines rolling down the highway. It’s been a while since I’ve had to put in a good 12 hour shift guarding a construction site. I remember working one site off the interstate near Macon. Just me and a trailer, a flashlight, a cellphone, and a golf cart. I was there to keep looters from vandalizing and stealing construction supplies. That was a cold winter even by my 300+ lbs standards. But the work as easy as long as I made my rounds and stayed awake.
 
Now I’m sitting here in the sun about to freeze my ass off. Thinking about the diagnostic codes I was looking at I wondered. How easy I would have been to just to ignore all the signals of my failing health. And how cold I’d be right now six feet under. I broke a family cause and lived past the age of 59, so now what? It’s a thought that’s crossed my mind on more than one occasion, believe me. But at this moment, I’ll just sit here and absorb all that I hear, all that I see, and everything I breathe. And be grateful for the extra time I’ve been given.