A simple message tucked inside a DOVE chocolate wrapper — “Celebrate the luxury of being you!” — prompted a reflection on family, music, mountain trails, aging and the many gifts of a life well lived in Estes Park. Credit: Estes Valley Voice

While reading a book recently, I mindlessly reached over to grab a chocolate from the candy dish.

I always tell myself dark chocolate is good for me.

I picked a chocolate with DOVE written on it, opened it, and popped it in my mouth, savoring the delicious morsel. I started to wad up the wrapper when I noticed there was a message inside. I had long forgotten that DOVE does this; a bit like a Chinese fortune cookie. The message read “Celebrate the luxury of being you.”

That message stuck with me, and I began to think about it.

It is a luxury to be me.

I was born in America, had extraordinary parents and grandparents, two loving sisters, a loving husband, and three great kids with supportive, super-smart spouses.

Yes, luxuries.

I have traveled across the USA, been to Europe many times, and have friends that I can count on any time of the day or night.

I have the luxury of living in a cabin built in 1905. We have been privileged to have at least 125 overnight, or fortnight, visitors. Our cabin has a unique history, but that’s another story.

Here in Estes Park I’ve had the luxury of playing string bass with the Oratorio Society under the direction of Claudia Irwin and Derald De Young, truly wonderful conductors.

I’ve also played in pit orchestras with Alan Denney. I have played harp at the church where we worship — St. Bartholomew Episcopal Church — where I have also had the privilege of preaching many times. I’ve had the luxury of celebrating Mass on Christmas Day.

I’ve been in numerous plays with the former Estes Park Rep Theater Company under the direction of the late Art Blume as well as our ever-talented artist/playwright/director, Michael Young.

For years, we hiked with church folks, kids, and grandkids: Flattop, Twin Sisters, an attempt at Long’s Peak. We have hiking patches sewn onto our backpacks. Lots of them. I treasure the trails with wildflowers, waterfalls, even the dangerous snowy crossings atop scree.

If I am honest, I envy those who can still hike my favorite trails like Fern Odessa.

I have slowed down considerably. We are both in our late-eighties. Now we walk the track at the Community Center, often being lapped by the swifter walkers. We have our groceries delivered. Our books come from the House Calls program at our wonderful library.

Sitting on our deck, watching the Big Thompson River roar by, I can inhale that unique pine smell that comes when the sun shines after an afternoon rain.

Yes, indeed. It is a luxury to be me.