When the time comes that white hair outnumbers the gold ones and it is hard for me to walk normally, I will declare myself an old person. Until then, I will be working. Where? I have yet to decide. But, when I finish my work, I will retire and move out of my house or apartment and move into a farmhouse somewhere in North Carolina. Or perhaps Germany. I have always liked the thought of being somewhere besides the United States.

But it doesn’t matter where I end up, just as long as it has a nice view and enough sunny days to outnumber the rainy ones.
Like most, I prefer sunny days. Yet, I am not naive. I know that sometimes it will rain. That’s okay, rain is necessary. Rain is what makes the green trees green and the purple flowers purple. It makes the world appreciate the sunny days. On sunny days, the mothers tell their kids to go outside and enjoy the warm glow of the sunshine, scared that it will soon be raining. Sure, rain is necessary, but we need the sunny days as well.
I just hope the sunny days outnumber the rainy while I live out my days in my house. On those days that are sunny, I will wake up and watch the sunrise. The kind where orange burns the sky, adding yellows and purples. Then I will put the kettle on and make tea. Then, I’ll make myself and my husband a grand breakfast. Maybe some buttery pancakes or cinnamon french toast. Or waffles. Or eggs from the chickens, I mean, if I have chickens. Maybe not. I don’t have a plan. I don’t think I ever will.
  While the bacon is frying, or the tea water boiling, I will feed my dogs. Then, after breakfast, any other animal I have will be fed.  I plan to have many animals because I love animals. Particularly dogs. Dog spelt backward is God, and I don’t consider it a coincidence.
I plan to enjoy the sun. Watch the high clouds soar over my home. I particularly like cotton candy clouds as white as a newborn lamb. Not the ugly gray ones that make the world so dreary. The ones that foreshadow rain and make you go inside, ending the fun early.
Maybe on Sundays I will have my children and their children over. Maybe we will look at the clouds together. And with my grandchildren, we will play games and have tea or coffee. The green pasture with the long grasses, and the forest might be enjoyed by them. Maybe the dogs will join in too. Yes, the dogs will enjoy the sunny days too.
As the sun reaches it’s high I will serve lunch and bake dessert for dinner later that evening. Maybe it will be chocolate chip cookies, or German Chocolate Layer Cake.
And as the sun starts to set turning the sky into a brilliant array of oranges smothering the yellows smothering the purples. And as dinner is prepared, we will eat. And under the table the dogs will press their wet brown noses into the palms of the grandchildren’s hands. They know that children are more keen to slip them table food. The stars would be twinkling by the time dessert was set on the table. Maybe after that we will simply watch the news or a movie, or everyone will go home. And as the moon rises above the trees, I will retire to bed, falling asleep to the noises outside of the house. Concluding the day. Yes, on a sunny day.
But not all days are sunny. Sometimes it rains. Even when the cross is light, it is still hard to trudge through the mud and gunk. Sometimes my children and my grandchildren will be too busy carrying their own crosses to take a break and spend time with me.
Hopefully, I won’t be lonely. I can’t think of a worse way to spend those days. All alone. The old lady who lives at the end of the street that the neighborhood pities.
And with age comes the pain of growing older. Risk of illness increases. Mobility decreases. I suppose that will be the hardest part of growing old, right?
So what will I do on rainy days? Don’t ask me. I haven’t planned that far ahead. I prefer to imagine the sunny days.
Yet, I have long since accepted that not all days will be sunny. Not all days with have the sunrise visible or the clouds high in the sky. No, not every day is a sunny day. Not every day does the light perfectly illuminate the trees making the leaves look like halos. Not everyday do the grandchildren want to come over. Not everyday will I be in good health. Not everyday is the cross light. No, not every day.
All I can do is hope that the sunny days outnumber the rainy ones in the end.