Recently, two different people, on two separate occasions, have made similar comments to me that have made me think about what books I’ll read in the future.
The first person, commenting on their travel plans said something along the lines of “I go overseas every two years. I figure I have about twenty years left where I’ll be fit enough to travel independently. So I’m down to choosing my last ten holidays.” Good grief, that’s depressing.
Then a few days ago, a friend commented that after ordering invitations for her 40th birthday party, she realised she was probably halfway through her life. Also bloody depressing.
But these two things made me think. I have passed the 40th milestone and don’t care about ‘getting older’ or aging however I do fear failing eyesight. On discussing aging with my husband, I said that my greatest fear would be not being able to read (thank goodness for my Kindle with its gigantic font setting, should it come to that).
Reassuringly, based on the fact that I could get through at least 70 books a year (more than 70 when I retire and spend my days reading) and I might bet on another 40 years, that’s 2,800 books I can still read. Phew.