Invisible Days

“My wife died you know?” The one-time British sailor squinted up at me through ninety year old eyes as if to see if I were going to listen before he went on. There was pain and need in those eyes. “She was beautiful too; pretty as a picture; pretty as a picture, and played the piano like an angel. Sixty years we been together. She was beautiful. Played the piano like an angel. I miss her you know. I got nobody now. People don’t care about old folks like me. They don’t even seem to see me. It’s like I am some kinda piece of garbage or something cause I’m old and worthless now. I miss her you know. She was beautiful. Played the piano like an angel.”
I am not too far from old and worthless myself. Some say I am already worthless. And for all the times I have gutted out races; all the times I have raised my arms in joy at some finish line, for all the awards I have won and all my other moments of accomplishments, projects completed, gardens raised, pastures mowed; despite all the hard work I have done, there will soon come a time when I won’t be seen either. All the things done in my life won’t be worth listening to by a younger , trendier world. I will be passed over like a crack in the sidewalk. I will be essentially invisible, encased in only my own world consisting of what memories I can recall. But that’s OK. I am at peace about it.
My invisible days won’t be alone. I will have Somebody; my Faithful Friend will be with me when the world goes on without me. I have His blessed assurance which – like the song says – “the world didn’t give it and the world can’t take it away.” I have Jesus.

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