TBB is working hard at a weight loss programme, starting with using an food logging app that lets her understand and control her calorie intake.

This push is part of an investment in her future that includes becoming mistress of “Second Chance,” a Kitfox airplane that has previously existed as parts in garages and storage units.  TBB has been collecting the bits and expects that it will take a year and a half or more to have it assembled and flight ready.   Flying lessons are part of TBB’s routine now, a commitment to fulfilling a long time dream.

She has worked to convince me of the wisdom of weight loss.  Neither of us are getting any younger, so taking control of what we can to maintain health, the greatest gift, is a smart choice.  Her suggestions to me come out of care and concern, and I appreciate them.

TBB wants to invest in her future.  She has hopes and dreams of new horizons and new joys.

Since my parents death and my sister’s choice not to carry out my parent’s instructions on the disposal of their estate, my ownership of my own life and my future have seemed more like burdens than possibilities.

I seem to have so much to burn and archive and so little left to grow and achieve.    Dreams are not something I can easily indulge in while I work hard to not spend what little funds I have, strive to conserve rather than to invest.

Instead of dreaming of new flights, I wonder if I can ever get past the corrupt foundation of my life, if my own smarts and broken body can ever get over the empty and broken bits of a life spent in service and not in building a family, a space, a career, a reputation, a nest egg, a future.

TBB’s commitment to her dreams is inspiring and joyful.   She invests in her own future.

My investments though, in understanding and insight, don’t seem nearly as prudent.

Invest in your own future.  It’s where you are going to spend the rest of your life.

Yet, like so often, that’s not a maxim I could take on for myself.

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