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“The Wheels Fly Off at 70"
A wise man once warned me there’d be days like this…
I should’ve seen it coming. The election results, I mean.
My blissful retirement started careening out of control over a year ago in all these unexpected, unsettling ways.
I guess I don’t handle change, that dreaded “c-word,” very well.
Possibly because I’ve lived a relatively comfortable life for a single mom. Managed to actually have a life beyond the mothering, sporadically. Got the kind of job that made sure my baby girl’s life was as safe and satisfying as I could make it on my own.
Built us a house in what was then a rural area just outside Tucson where she went to what was affectionately known as cowboy school — a big high school complex with a large barn and arena where they held roping competitions and 4H events every weekend.
No gangs. Possibly a few drugs but mostly just a bunch of fresh-faced country kids having the time of their lives going to classes out in the middle of what had once been a vast cotton field where the only “hang out” available was an A&W next to one of the precious few gas stations in the area.
Every chance I got, I would gaze upon the breathtaking view of the Catalina mountains out of the windows in the kitchen and master…
