Visions of Margaritas or Martinis by the pool abound. Days of leisure extend to the horizon, no matter how foreshortened the distance to that vista may be. This is the vision for many about how retirement should be.
The pruning process for the young brain starts early. Refinement occurs, making all the necessary connections in a very busy place between our ears more efficient. Seems like a waste of good synaptic potential, but like all things pruned, a richer growth ensues. Those grasping, exploring little hands are working hard to establish a coordinated effort at exploring the wonder of the new.
We age. The physical self needs repairs. After 50 it’s patch, patch and stitch back together. The seat of consciousness slows, the details of the moment interrupt quick recall and we stumble trying to remember what’s his or her face’s name from a year, week or day ago, only to have it come back to us in the middle of the night after a trip to the bathroom. We’ve got it then, but it’s utility is limited at that hour.
Details we remember. Events and their emotional import cling to the cobwebbed recesses. We clear the webs by a stiff cup of coffee or vigorous walk and the sweetness or sadness of time gone returns.