The woman seated opposite me in the coffee shop was more than a decade younger than I was.  Long have I admired her talent and leadership in the artistic community. Naturally, I was stunned when she swallowed as if a peanut had lodged in her throat and said, “I’m going blind.”

Each day I take up my writing with a new understanding about time. The race is on. I turned 76 a while ago, not an auspicious number, but as I observed then, still a milestone. Having left the “Third Chapter” of my life — that period between 65-75 when one is retired, health