I've given up cooking Thanksgiving dinner. My daughter is hosting. I'm making gravy because nobody else has yet mastered how to get it just right.
The best thing about getting old is being able to do what you want -- at least some of the time.
I keep thinking about that as my husband and I contemplate our retirement planning and the odds that we will have enough to live on in retirement the way we want to until we aren't around to need the money any more.
We have a combined total of five children, and if we can do it, we want to leave all of them a generous amount of what we have accumulated. Life for them seems more challenging than it was for us starting out in the last century. I have the feeling that they will be very grateful for everything that we are able to leave behind.
On the other hand, my parents were both dead before they reached age 65. My husband's parents lived longer than that, but their lifespans didn't approach the ages that the Social Security actuaries say boomers are likely to live. If we are still here at 90 or 100, we're going to need every penny we can squirrel away.
It's a challenge and one that is in the back of my mind as I watch the younger generation deal with the problems of abundance -- in this case struggling to get the turkey and the stuffing and the broccoli casserole in the same oven all at the same time.
In another couple of hours we're going to do what we always do -- say a grateful prayer for another good year and toast to the next one, which we hope will be still better. At that moment, I won't be worried because seeing them all around the table, happy and about to be well fed reassures me that, one way or the other, we'll figure it out.