Fiftieth Year

The fiftieth year of our life is like
the last hour of dusk,
when the sun has set and one turns
naturally toward reflection.
In my case, however, dusk incites me to sin,
and perhaps for that reason,
in my fiftieth year I find myself reflecting
on my relationship
with food and eroticism; the weaknesses
of the flesh that most tempt
me are not, alas,
those I have practised most.

from Aphrodite by Isabel Allende

This poem really strikes a chord in me. I first read it in my fiftieth year. It still makes me think of all those lost opportunities, the chances to love someone left behind because of work or other pressures, the fast food when I could have sat down and truly enjoyed the good stuff. But then, I'm a long way from being done. Surely eroticism and food, the two most sensual things available to enjoy, can still play a large role in my life. Yes, there is something to look forward to. I love to cook, grill, smoke producing truly delicious stuff that makes everyone want to visit my home. I have not hugged my wife enough, but that will change.