Dropping the ball

I'M NOT depressed, exactly. Not even sad. More a little sober.

We seem to be surrounded by reminders of our own mortality, of friends who are ill to a greater or lesser degree, or people who have died, like our neighbour.

It's a sobering awareness, the sense of mortality. Most of the time we ignore it, or try to. What's the point of dwelling on the inevitable? Then just sometimes it just come to the fore - like now, for us.

We are sometimes forced into the awareness that, no matter how hard we cling to it, one day we're going to drop the ball. Just, hopefully, not today. Nor tomorrow.

And maybe that's the one consolation.

"Eat, drink and be merry..." We still have the ball now.

Just something I'm thinking about.