What can I look forward to?

I have been pondering this week the questions I really should have resolved long before now. Trying to make sense of this reprieve I've received, after having been jostled on the street by a dark stranger, and then passed by. How much time do I have? What do I want to do with whatever more time I've been given?

My father died suddenly at age 68, my seminal experience with unexpected death. Now that I'm coming up fast on age 55, I think of this as terribly young to have to check out. Thirteen years doesn't seem like enough time at all. But the real question is, whether I have 2, 10, 20 or 40 more years, how do I want to account for that time?

The fact that I and my peers have made it this far already is in itself, a modern miracle. Historically, women didn't do too well in the mortality sweepstakes--it was a rare old bird who made it past 50 or even 40, what with continuous pregnancies and childbirth, overwork and substandard nutrition, poor sanitation and infectious diseases. Five hundred years ago, most women didn't live long enough to have to deal with menopause, or breast cancer, or osteoporosis, the things women my age seem most concerned about.

We've gotten spoiled about living long, and living well for a lot longer. Even 80 years ago, a man or woman could expect to die while still in their working lives. The implosion of the Social Security program is a testament to how few people actually made it to the magic retirement age of 65 then, as opposed to now--in the 1930's, there were 47 workers for every retiree; by 2020, there will be 2 young whippersnappers for every SSI recipient. Falling birth rates can account for some of the discrepancy, but the difference is largely because we are all living much, much longer.

Our parents expect to live into their eighties, nineties and beyond, and until this happened to me, I did too. Now, I can't assume anything. I now have to face that my Life Clock is finite. I knew it in the abstract, but I never looked at it with anything other than a "Later, MUCH later," attitude. My own little Scarlett O'Hara "I'll think about that tomorrow..." delusion.

So it all comes back to the pondering. Now that I know my time is limited, what am I going to do about it? What is important to me? How do I want to live?

Like I said, I should have figured this one out a long time ago...