How can a presume to review what I am also living. The friends all gone, all the funerals, but I have fooled the ghouls. I donated this hulk to the med.school. I have hidden the stash of pills. Probably won't remember where when I need them. SO, that's enough wallowing, enough pity party. The years aren't golden, but they will be lived. It would be nice to find a hereafter, but my doubts have pretty much erased those hopes. You have given me a great evening of all those wonderful people and times. Maybe that's what's mean't by Golden years.