To My Younger Self

When I was young I used to imagine how it would be when I reached the year 2001. It seemed unimaginably far away. That year came and went, an anticlimax after the millenial Sturm und Drang came to nothing. Did I feel any different? Certainly. I was rapidly approaching the age of 50, with no signs of slowing down. There were no brakes on this train.

In fact, time seemed to travel faster with each passing year. Life flitted by me like scenes flashing on a screen. I was there in the scenes, but moving at 1/3 speed. The six-year-old who visits zips in circles and cartwheels across the hall while I gingerly raise myself from my chair to a standing position, waiting to see if everything still works. What a difference 69 years makes!

Granted, I am not a typical 69-year-old. Many are still playing basketball or skiing or waltzing. Maybe not like they did 30 years all ago, but if the ads are to be believed…and the deathless Hollywood celebrities…aging is something to be avoided or at least delayed.

Welcome to the world! 2022 is a fine time to learn to be grateful for the grace of getting old. There are people who never get the opportunity. And while I still breathe there is always someone to love.

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