We hadn't made any plans for the long July 4th weekend, other than going to a party in a high-rise overlooking the fireworks display on the Charles River. So when we woke to a sunny July 3rd Saturday morning, I couldn't help but wish we could throw our bicycles on the car, drive to the country and go for a thirty-mile training ride as we often did prior to our many summer biking vacations.
But we're not doing biking vacations anymore because Peter is not in as good shape as he used to be. (At eighty, that shouldn't be a surprise.) But in a feeling-sorry-for-myself tone, I mentioned my wish to him as we ate our breakfast.
My good-natured and accepting-of-his-limitations husband reminded me that…
We had our time.