Living La Vida Loca

My mother passed away earlier this week, and I started thinking about how she lived it. She worked full-time up until she was in her early 70's (her choice, not a financial necessity) and using old school thinking, she wouldn't retire because she had nothing else to do.
So, after working for a total of well over 50 years, she was able to retire and reach the stage of life where she did not have to be a slave to the alarm clock or to the whims of a corporate master. And it lasted all of 3 months. That's when she was diagnosed with the disease that would claim her life a few months later.

WTF is up with that? I accept that she lived life on her terms, but damn, I sure do not understand it.

Whenever the lottery would hit those huge amounts, I would dream about what I could do if I was fortunate enough to win. She once told me that she thought it would be awful to win, because what would I ever do all day long?

I guess this is the biggest difference between many of the old school types and me.

If I won the lottery, I would have no trouble filling up my day. Work sucks. I have never had a job that I wanted to do rather than goofing off. Sure, I have even had jobs I liked to do, but I would gladly be willing to be filthy rich and search out things to do.

The world is so open and full of promise and possibilities that I can't understand setting limits on oneself.

Just in my state alone, it seems that every week there is a festival or noteworthy event on a weekly basis. I would attend them all.

And, if I ever decided to venture out of state, the choices are endless.

Plays, concerts, and the best of everything known to man is within a short trip of my home.

That does not even come close to counting the number of leisure activities available to almost anyone.
Nearly any interest may be pursued.

Always interested in flying? Take lessons. Like old cars or trains? Join a heritage club and get involved. Like to help others? Hospitals, day care centers, and nursing homes would love to have volunteer help.

RIP, Mom. I never understood your choices, but am glad you made yours, not mine.