POOR JOHN

I feel kind of sorry for my hubby. At first he was pretty excited about his soon-to-be-semi-retired status, but I think his feet are starting to feel a wee bit frigid. For the last month or so, hardly a day goes by that someone doesn't ask him questions like "Are you sure you are ready for this? What are you going to do with yourself all day? How will you and Beck stand being together in that little house, after all this time apart? Won't you be bored to tears if you don't have somewhere to go every day?" If you hear that kind of stuff often enough, you're bound to start wondering!

On top of all that, ever since having his quadruple bypass a couple of months ago, John's big brother has become something of a Born Again fitness guru, so he calls John every weekend to give him pep talks on what he needs to be doing to get his life under control. I tried to gently remind him about John's little quirk regarding well-intentioned advice -- that the more times you tell John to do something, the less likely he is to do it --but so far, my hint hasn't taken hold.

I think what John really needs is just time -- time to noodle. Time to be left alone to ponder about what makes him happy, and what doesn't. Time to figure out what HE likes, wants, and needs, after 40 years of worrying about what everyone else needs. That's the gift I most fervently wish for him, because that's the gift he gave to me three years ago, when he said "Go ahead and quit your job in Houston. You need to be in Wimberley."