The September Song - These Precious Days

It seems as if 1983 was just the other day. But it's been 42 years. That seems impossible.

In 1983, I was living on a 300-acre horse ranch, working during the day as secretary to the President of three companies.

My small cottage was located nearest the main road on the long and winding gravel driveway. Delivery people stopped to inquire if my boss, at the big house, was in and accepting visitors. The hand-me-down furniture in the cottage was huge, having come from the house on the hill after they remodeled. The king-size bed took up nearly all the floor space in the tiny bedroom. But the little house was comfortable and just the right size for me.

There were horses in the pasture behind the cottage and I witnessed the early morning birth of a foal, my first such experience. The horses would come right up to the fence hoping for a handful of the greener grass from my side or a fresh carrot with green leaves.

It was quiet, eerily silent at night with only the sound of owls and crickets singing in the dark. Away from the city, the stars seemed brighter, the sky clearer, the air fresher.

We had an office in town. From the third-floor window I could watch the busy traffic on LBJ Freeway aka 635. I'd show up at eight before the family employees who came in around ten. That gave me a couple of hours of peace and quiet in the elegant surroundings.

I sometimes miss driving into town at the rush-hour and finding a good parking place under a shade tree on those blistering Texas summer days.

After I left that job, they relocated the business to a busier, even taller building right off the High 5 intersection on Central Expressway, a nightmare to navigate. The building has changed hands many times since then, each proclaiming their corporate names high at the top of the black glass structure.

So much water under the bridge since those days. There've been many career changes. A college degree finally completed. Holding a corporate management role in a multi-billion dollar global company. Now, retirement. Ah, sweet retirement.

The memories of the past have had time to soften and mellow and the bad times seem less harsh with time. I'm content, now, to live my slower-paced, homebody life at home with my wonderful husband and precious dogs.

The September Song - Ella Fitzgerald

I don't miss those days as much as I miss the energy and productivity that goes with being young. With each passing birthday, I see less time ahead than behind. And I'm grateful for the things I experienced along the way to getting old.