An old friend...

I feel like an old friend has just walked through the door. A friend that I have neglected, because I have been hanging out on Facebook. My blog seems like a comfortable place...a place where I can say something and not be subject to an immediate critique of my opinion or words. I believe I have made the mistake of looking at Facebook as much the same as my experience as a weekly columnist in the local newspaper when they definitely should not be looked at under the same light. I am starting to realize that the privilege of having a weekly column is much different than being a participant on Facebook. A newspaper columnist writes about whatever topic she chooses, and it doesn't necessarily invite feedback. Being on Facebook is only a step away from texting or "chatting" electronically. Say something on Facebook, and it is looked at as inviting a response. I tried chatting on Facebook, but it got out of control. I found I couldn't keep up with the demand of chatting with several people at once, and I didn't want to choose between friends. Instead, I chose to stay off line when on Facebook, or in other words, not be shown as available to chat because too many people wanted to chat at the same time. I enjoy my private messages received in Facebook, and it is clear to me the messages are in line with personal communication. A friend or family member is talking to me and no one else in my private messages on Facebook. Status comments, on the other hand, are not directed to me unless they are actually placed on my wall. It is well after midnight now, but August 12th (a couple of hours ago) was my husband's 70th birthday. My granddaughter said it well a few days ago when she exclaimed "You guys are going to be 70 this year??!!!" She said that 70 makes us sound old, and that she thought while we are in our sixties we sound like younger cool grandparents. I think I kind of feel much the same way. When in our sixties, there is a certain comfort and hanging on to those fifties' years while convincing ourselves we still have a lot of life to live. There is no avoiding that word "elderly" when you reach 70 years old. All you have to do is recall how old you thought people were when in their seventies to be reminded that you are becoming an antique or would be if you were a piece of furniture or jewelry. In fact, when my husband pulled a gold watch out of the safe recently to have the battery changed, the jeweler looked at it and said, "I bet you really don't know the value of this watch now." Well, if you are older than the watch, it kind of says it all. Doesn't it? So...if I am old now, and I will be reaching that same number in November of this year, then that means I must reflect on life and ponder the future. Since my husband has been diagnosed with three terminal diseases, I find the future unsettling. I have a past filled with wonderful memories, but I also miss some beloved people from my past who are no longer living. Thinking of the past creates mixed emotions. My survival that keeps me going forward with a positive attitude has been to live in the moment...in the day. But when you stay up late and the home is quiet, the phone isn't ringing, the family is sleeping, you can't help but let a few old memories...and a few fears...slip through the barriers. Tonight is one of those evenings. So I turn to my blog...an old and comfortable friend.