Catching Up

It’s been too hot to run around outside lately and so I’ve take to going to aquafit at the local pool. It’s me and the old Chinese and Italian ladies, who use this more as an excuse to catch up on the local gossip than to exercise. They wave their arms and legs half-heartedly as they gab over the din of the water echoing off the concrete. “Feet together, apart” the instructor chirps as they tell each other of grand children and surgeries, minor injustices and household appliances. I can’t help but wonder what it must be like to feel that most of life is behind you, much of it even forgotten. Is there immense relief in knowing that most of the up hill battles have been fought, most trepidation just a memory, that so very little of what is left is uncertain? Or, is there sadness at knowing there is so little up ahead, that the first are a few and far between, that there is little hope left of leading a different life? And what of me, here, surrounded by grey, wrinkled heads, bobbing as they catch up on the gossip?