The Company I Keep

The Company I Keep

Who do you spend the most time with?

Letters to the Prompt

✍️ Author’s Note

This reflection is part of my ongoing Letters to the Prompt — a light hearted exercise in answering life’s small questions with a touch of experience, a dash of mischief, and a healthy dose of realism from someone firmly settled in the winter of life, enjoying its quieter, richer flavours.

Letters to the Prompt

Ah, dear Prompt, forgive the tardiness of my reply. Not every question sparks fireworks in the brain — some are more like a flickering candle on a windy day. But duty calls, and who am I to resist? Truth be told, the more of these prompts I answer, the more I realize I risk becoming a broken record — albeit, I hope, a record playing a decent tune.

Now, to your question: “Who do you spend the most time with?”

I could be clever and answer “myself,” but that would be too easy — though also entirely accurate. Of course, the answer depends greatly on which chapter of life one finds oneself in. In the grand novel of existence, the cast of characters changes frequently.

In the early chapters, it was my parents and my younger brother — who arrived fashionably late, nine years after me, ensuring my childhood was not too peaceful. Later, the pages filled with friends, classmates, professors, business colleagues, and one or two curious strangers who made life interesting.

Then came the professional saga — offices, airports, endless handshakes, and late-night dinners where everyone pretended to enjoy themselves. Relationships came and went, some stayed longer than others, and the scenery shifted.

Now, at eighty-one, I have entered what I call the Frank Sinatra chapter: A Man Alone. But don’t mistake that for loneliness — quite the contrary. Life has been generous, and solitude has its own charm.

These days, I sleep for six or seven hours (though my back sometimes disagrees), spend my mornings with myself, my coffee, and the great composers — Chopin, Mahler, and Bach are regular guests in my living room. I play a bit of chess, though the computer always cheats, and I attempt to limit my writing to one hour, which inevitably becomes two because, well, who’s going to stop me?

My morning walk varies between a dignified stroll or an ambitious hike, depending on the weather and my knees. Lunch — which has cunningly disguised itself as an early dinner — is enjoyed either at home or out, preferably somewhere with linen napkins and a decent wine list.

Afternoons are reserved for reading, writing, and politely ignoring television, except for the occasional documentary or a particularly gripping chess match. Evenings are light — both in calories and ambition. If I’m not entertaining (which, at my age, means two glasses of wine and calling it a party), I find solace in books, music, and, when possible, a concert or play that reminds me of the finer things in life.

So, who do I spend the most time with? Myself, without apology — accompanied by good music, good books, and on fortunate days, good company. I have, as the Romans used to say, reached otium cum dignitate — leisure with dignity.

In short: I am trying to live the best life possible, and so far, it’s not a bad performance.

Netherlands, WJJH. 17.7.2025

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Reflections from the eight decade, is part of my ongoing letters to the prompt on the theme of companionship — a light hearted exercise in answering life’s small questions.