Hope...

9/21/14 NYC- Photo: © S. Banos

Worst thing about getting old (and lord knows it ain't easy picking just one) is the loss of that intangible lightness called... hope. Like raging hormones, hope is a product of youth, it's most potent, bountiful and thoroughly addictive of drugs. It's what keeps us chugging along- despite the odds, regardless of the setbacks, irrespective of the failures. Year, after year, disappointment after disappointment. Hope was always there picking ya up the next day- it's gonna get better, things are gonna change, just... keep... going... 

Until the day arrives when hope no longer greets you. Like a receding hairline, dissipating at a snail's pace, it doesn't come as shock- more... foregone conclusion. You can still make plans, you can still test your limits, but the mindful reassurance is forever gone. Hope will get ya up the hillside, but ultimately it must revert to those still young enough to believe.